


Warm Heart, Frozen Tears

by Lady_Phenyx



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Baby Tooth is a BAMF, Budding Jackrabbit, Caning, Family Feels, Forced Orgasm, M/M, North/Jack Father/Son Developing relationship, Other, Overstimulation, Rape Recovery, Torture, Toys, electric shock, greedy humans, nonconsentual touching, none of this is consented to, punishment enema
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-09-05
Packaged: 2018-01-10 17:21:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 27
Words: 49,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1162431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Phenyx/pseuds/Lady_Phenyx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three hundred years is a long time to go without crying. Most spirits assume Jack Frost has never cried, but it's not true - he just hides when he does. Because when Jack Frost cries, the tears turn into gems. </p><p>They're his, though, so he keeps them secret and only tells those he can trust.</p><p>He's managed to collect most of them, but some always fall through the cracks. All unknown to Jack, who thinks of them as pretty but fairly useless, collectors are very interested in the extremely rare, very pretty little jewels. And when one adult finds out just where they come from...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dropping slowly and clumsily from the sky, Jack landed on his lake, dropping to his knees. Ten years since he’d risen from the dark, cold water, and he was no closer to finding answers than he had been when he first broke through the ice. Most days he could forget no one could see him, that no one would tell him what was going on, lose himself in playing tricks and trying to figure out his powers, but…

Someone had seen him today. Another winter spirit, if he had any guess, seeing as how they had ice coating their hair and ice crusted on them in place of clothing, skin tinged an unhealthy blue, barely even human in form. He’d tried to talk to them, but they’d hissed and driven him away before he could even say more than hello. 

With a shuddering breath he gave up on trying to hold back the tears. It was all just too much, and no one was going to see him, so what did it matter if he was sitting in the middle of his lake bawling like a child?

He had no idea how long he’d been sitting there when he finally ran out of tears, hiccuping quietly. Crying didn’t help anything, but he did feel a little better now. He raised his head as the wind sent a soft breeze to twine around him, lifting his cloak and ruffling his hair in the closest it could get to a hug. 

The lake was brightly lit with moonlight as he sniffed, rubbing at his nose and giving the moon a small, if watery, smile. If felt like the moon was trying to comfort him too, and although he would have preferred words, at the moment he’d take what he could get. 

Standing, he started to walk across the lake back to shore and nearly fell as something small and hard rolled underfoot, making him skid across the ice. Going back to his knees, he scooped up a few of the tiny things, holding them up to take a better look.

They were small, shaped like perfect teardrops, clear with a rainbow sheen when he tilted them in the moonlight to watch them glitter, sparkling brightly in the pale moonlight, and a tiny snowflake was trapped inside each, almost seeming to move as he turned it. Sniffing again, he felt something on his face and caught the tear as it fell down his cheek, holding it up in wonder to compare to the little gem he held.

They were…his tears? Suddenly seeing the humor in the situation, the pure, ridiculous, fairy-tale scenario it was, he began to laugh, the sound echoed in its own way by the wind. Still laughing, he gathered up the tiny stones, getting as many as he could find. He’d have to find or make something to store them in, but…maybe, someday, someone would see him, and these were pretty, maybe they would make a nice friendship gift?

He left the stones in a small cave next to his lake for now and flew off, lighter in heart, and if he wished there was someone to share this new discovery with or to explain why he cried rocks instead of water like a human, that was for him alone to know.

 

Roughly two hundred and ninety years later, Jack landed on his lake gently, floating down to land with the grace of a falling snowflake. He had a palace in Antarctica now, hidden away, built mostly to pass the time and for the sheer fun of it (there was one slide he was particularly proud of even if no one had ever seen it, wrapped around the tower in the middle of an ice rink/snowball fight arena, that he could hardly wait to introduce the other Guardians to), and North was talking about building him his own room at the Pole, and the others were beginning to hint of similar thoughts in their own ways (before a month ago, the others had never even seen the inside of Bunny’s Warren or Sandy’s island, but after Easter they had realized just how short-sighted that was), but for some reason, it still felt right somehow to store his tears in the cave that had been his first home.

It looked like no one had discovered it yet, and idly Jack wondered if the same magic that kept mortals from finding the other Guardians’ homes was protecting his cave – or den, as he liked to think of it. 

Shrugging off the thought, he pulled the box from its shelf, hidden away in a niche near the back of the cave, to add the latest batch of tears. He’d had to remake the box a few times over the years, mostly to make it larger, but to his own surprise he’d found he was good with woodworking. He understood why he was now that he had his memories back, but at the time, it had simply been something small to be grateful for. He’d added decorative touches to it over the years, but the frost covering the carvings was what marked it as uniquely his.

Easter had been bad, very bad. The others had apologized for it, telling him how they had regretted what they’d said as soon as they had calmed down that day, had been so guilt ridden and truly apologetic he’d been able to forgive them – he sucked at holding grudges anyway, and could understand why they had jumped to the conclusions they had, even if it had, and still did, hurt, even still blamed himself for not thinking, for not being there for them – but he had quite a store of tiny gems in his hoodie pocket from before Pitch had found him. 

He supposed he should count himself lucky he’d moved on to angrily trying to get rid of the tooth box by the time Pitch had shown up – being caught crying or collecting the tears by the Bogeyman would have been embarrassing.

There were a few spirits he’d told about his unique ability – a kitsune in Japan, a few friendly Fall spirits (proper seasonals, not like him, with the touch of the Man in the Moon on him that marked him as something other than just a seasonal spirit), a few of the other trickster spirits (to add the tears to their off-limits prank lists, short as those were), one or two others who had seen him rather than his reputation, been willing to be friends with him and had been trusted enough to be gifted a tear. Each cared for it proudly, and swore not to tell where it had come from. 

They were the only ones who knew why he never cried, not where anyone could see him. Any other spirit he encountered seemed to think he just couldn’t, that any winter spirit, let alone the Spirit of Winter, would be too cold-hearted to cry, that the tears would freeze before leaving his eyes if he even tried, and he didn’t bother to tell them otherwise. What did it matter what they thought?

The other winter spirits probably didn't cry since they were either too prim and proper or too blood-thirsty to shed tears. 

Jack was considered the winter freak, the soft-in-the-head spirit that liked humans and playing and talking out problems. It made the other seasonal spirits rather inclined to like him to a point, even if they didn't play or care about humans, and made the other winter spirits hate him. At least they had a reason to hate him, as opposed to the general hatred they had for everyone else. As for the summer spirits, they were still in the mindset of “summer is for work” and took turns trying to out proper each other. So really, no one to tell about his special 'talent' beyond a select few, or really, no one else to talk to at all beyond those few.

Finishing emptying his pocket, he fished out the last tear and smiled at it fondly. The first happy tear he’d shed in three hundred years, he’d found it caught in his hood after everything was all over. It seemed to sparkle at him cheerfully, the rainbow a little more pronounced, the snowflake fancier, than all the miserable tears he had shed over the years. This one he’d give to Jamie, he decided, slipping the tear back into his pocket. Jamie was the reason he’d shed it, after all. Decision made, he started rummaging through the box, trying to choose the prettiest tears for the Burgess seven. Okay, so maybe a Guardian wasn’t supposed to have favorites, but he had to give something to the first children to ever see him, didn’t he?

Oh, and Baby Tooth! That one would be perfect for her, he thought, picking out a tear. Wondering if he should give one to the other Guardians, he settled on the floor, taking his time to pick out just the right ones.


	2. Chapter 2

Baby Tooth flitted around the glade, showing off her new treasure to the good-natured envy of her sisters. Jack grinned, leaning back atop his boulder. It was time for another monthly Guardian meeting – or, more precisely, monthly Guardian hang out slash excuse for a party – and they were having it at Tooth’s palace this time, now that he had convinced her he could handle the heat. It wasn't fair to have them at North's all the time – though if it was _make_ North host or _let_ him host they weren't quite sure.

He’d visited the Tooth Palace before during the whole Pitch debacle, honestly, he was fine, no reason to keep Tooth from hosting, and it gave him a chance to sneak away and give Baby Tooth her tear. He just needed time to acclimate to the heat and he’d be fine, and the flight over had given him plenty of time to do that. It was dry heat that bothered him, not the wet, humid heat of the Tooth Palace, and at temperatures hotter than the Tooth Palace usually managed to reach, especially with the wind giving him a nice breeze.

If he got too hot he'd just make himself a temporary snowbank, and the baby teeth would decimate it for a snowball fight before it had a chance to melt. 

They'd started having the meetings a month after that dramatic Easter, and had been having them since. For Jack, it had been four years of hesitating, of not being quite sure if he could trust the others with the tears he'd picked out for them. He wanted to, but each time he was ready to hand them over his fears had returned in full force. It had even made him hesitate about giving the tears to his first believers.

They were almost burning a hole in his hoodie pocket today, waiting to be delivered. He hadn't told the other Guardians about his 'talent' yet, but he'd have to when he handed over the tears. He just hoped he was ready.

It rather helped that they had all been talking since then, feeling their way through turning into a team. Baby Tooth had been indignant when she'd found out they thought Jack had traded her for his tooth box. An indignant Baby Tooth was simultaneously adorable, hilarious, and terrifying. She'd hovered over all of them threateningly, she and Sandy both refusing to let any of them leave until they talked things out. All of it.

Clearing the air over that had let them work on that trust that they'd started building that weekend and shattered that Easter morning. Tooth was unreserved with him again, North didn't have that faint shadow on his eyes when they spoke, both overjoyed and slightly guilty for jumping to conclusions, no matter how forgiven they were by Jack

As for Bunny, it meant arguments that had used to devolve into insults and rage had turned into mutually enjoyable snarkfests. Bunny had the softest fur, too, Jack had found out when they finally were comfortable enough to touch, and he looked forward to each affectionate shove or hair ruffle. There were times he just wanted to bury his face in Bunny's ruff and snorgle it. He didn't quite dare, but Bunny was giving him hugs now, so soon. Bunny wasn't as quick to hug as Tooth, North, or Sandy were, but they were worth it.

It had taken him a good two years to realize the hugs and nicknames were rarer than Bunny's smiles, and given only to those he cared about and trusted. 

Maybe that was why he felt ready, finally, to trust them with this last piece of himself, that he had kept so hidden for so long. 

It had been hard to get away to give Baby Tooth the tear, since he was mobbed by off-duty fairies as soon as he’d landed, and it had felt awkward to give Baby Tooth a gift and not her sisters. 

The baby teeth had him wrapped around their little fingers and they were starting to realize it. 

They were handling it well, though, and he was saved from any puppy-eyed pleas for a tear by the shift change and the excitement as Toothiana came off from work, giving control over to Baby Tooth, who flew up to show her mother her new treasure proudly before tucking it into her pouch for safekeeping and flying off to her still-new job.

“Oh, it's beautiful! Jack, where did you find such a thing?” Tooth asked as she floated down. Jack shrugged.

“Around,” he said evasively. “Tell you later.” He _was_ going to give the rest their tears, really he was, he just wanted to only have to explain it once and get it over with. 

Jack smirked as he heard North’s booming laugh coming down toward the pool, cutting off any more need to explain. For once, he was the first at a meeting – that was going to blow all their minds. 

He waved off being so early with the legitimate reason of wanting to see Baby Tooth before she was too busy and settled back onto his boulder as they settled into their meeting. The ‘meeting’ part was over quickly, since at this time of year, Bunny was still recovering from Easter – which they had all promised to help with again next year, to make bigger and better than ever, another first – and North didn’t have to kick into high gear just yet. Give it a month, since autumn was coming up quick, and he’d be going crazy.

So would Jack, since he got going in the autumn changing the leaves and helping the crops to ripen in the northern hemisphere, but it was nothing compared to how focused North was. The autumn spirits tried to help him, but they couldn't frost things, and the frost was what made the leaves turn and gave that last push to nature to get ready for winter. At least he didn't have a set schedule for these things.

Bored, Jack stood to stretch and yelped as his foot hit an unexpected patch of moss, slipping off the boulder. The wind caught him before he could fall, but he still managed to bang his elbow on the rock as he tumbled.

He looked up to see everyone looking at him in surprise and felt the frost start to creep over his cheeks.

“Jack! Jack, are you all right?” Tooth said, hovering over him. He sat up slowly, automatically searching for the tear that had escaped when he hurt himself. Amazing how little things like that could hurt so much and surprise a tear out of him when he could keep from crying from just about anything else...

“Yeah, just caught me off guard,” he answered sheepishly. “Can balance on my staff and walk on ice, just can’t stand up without falling…” he muttered. 

He spotted the tear at the same time Bunny did, the sun glinting off the tiny jewel and drawing their eyes. He scowled as Bunny picked up and inspected the tear, feeling surprisingly upset, almost violated, at seeing someone else handle a tear without him giving it to them first. “That’s mine,” he said, irritation seeping through his voice as Bunny went to stow it away.

“What was that, mate?” Bunny asked, looking confused and still holding the tear, automatically starting to hold it out towards Jack. “You know what this is?”

North plucked the tear from Bunny’s loose grip before Jack could snatch it, holding it up to the light to see it sparkle. “I have heard of these, but never seen one before,” he said meditatively. “Very rare, very hard to find. When did you find, Jack?”

“Just now,” he said, adding, “excuse me for missing a few,” under his breath.

North may have been frozen as an old man thanks to the children's belief, but his ears were still sharp.

“Jack? What do you mean, ‘missing a few’? You know where to find these? You are…keeping them?” he asked, peering at Jack, who held out his hand expectantly for the tear, huffing when became clear North wasn’t about to hand it over.

“Of course I know where they come from, since they’re my tears,” he said bluntly. “I should get to say what happens to them,” he finished, frosting harder under their silent, confused stares. “What? C’mon, guys, it can’t be that rare.”

“Never heard of someone crying jewels before,” North said mildly. Jack felt the frost start traveling down his chest at that. Several of Tooth’s fairies fainted, fluttering to the ground as they realized the frost was Jack’s version of a blush. 

Tooth was waiting for Jack to answer, trying to be patient and not crowd Jack and demand answers or to coo like her fairies while beside her, Sandy flashed through sand pictures faster than they could follow.

“C’mon, you have to call them ‘jewels’? Isn’t this embarrassing enough?” Jack demanded. “Yes, I cry them, I hit my elbow and it happened.”

“Still kinda hard to swallow, Frostbite,” Bunny said, sitting next to North and looking over Jack with a smirk. “And nope, can’t say I’ve heard of it before. What about you, mates?” Tooth and Sandy shook their heads as Jack shifted from foot to foot, obviously uncomfortable. “Maybe it’s a winter spirit thing? Dunno if I ever heard ‘a one o’ them cryin’, though. Most of ‘em aren’t really much for the softer feelin’s, if ya get mah drift.”

Jack scowled, snatching the tear from North when the older man held it out to him. He knew just what Bunny meant about the other winter spirits, so he focused on the tear instead. There was a reason a gathering of winter spirits was called a 'war', after all. Jack was just grateful he was too powerful for them to want to mess with. 

“So I'm still the winter freak. Look, I don’t know why it happens, it just does. Don’t…don’t tell anyone, okay? It’s kinda…I don’t tell anyone it happens, unless I can trust them, and, well…”

He didn’t have to fill in that blank – all four were able to far to easily. 

Slowly Tooth fluttered down in front of Jack, reaching out to touch and hesitating. “You…you don’t trust us yet, do you, Jack?”

Jack took a deep breath before reaching into his hoodie pocket, holding out his hand toward her. In the hollow of his palm rested four tiny jewels, each catching the light and sparkling enticingly.

“I…well…I picked these out for you four,” he said quietly, not looking directly at any of them. “Just…promise not to tell anyone else, okay?” 

North’s booming laugh was the only warning the winter spirit got before he was wrapped in one of North’s huge, bone-crushing hugs. Sandy snuggled in beside him, grinning innocently as Tooth glomped onto them from the other side. Smirking, he used his staff to hook Bunny and drag him close enough for North to pull him into the group hug. If he had to be squashed, Bunny did too.

The rabbit protested, but his heart wasn’t in it, proven when he gave the side of Jack's head a nuzzle. Jack smiled so big it hurt as he hugged his new family back. Maybe he was right to trust them after all.

 

He left the tears for the Burgess believers in their rooms with a note in his distinctive, rather spidery and old-fashioned handwriting. He didn’t tell them where he’d gotten them, just that they were a present and to keep them safe. All except for Jamie and Sophie, who received their tears in person. 

Sophie cooed over the tiny gem as Jamie looked his over with wonder and curiosity shining in his eyes. 

“Where did you get something like this?” Jamie asked excitedly, bouncing in place.

“You could say I made it,” Jack answered teasingly. He grinned, ruffling Jamie’s hair affectionately when the boy looked up at him in wonder. “Keep it safe, okay?” 

Jamie nodded, solemn as only an eleven year old could be as he crossed his heart before running to his room to put it away somewhere he considered secure.

He was ambushed by snowballs as soon as he emerged, the tear forgotten in the all out snow war that followed. 

 

All seven Burgess believers took to proudly wearing their tears at all times. Sophie asked Santa for a chain and setting for hers, so she wouldn’t lose it, and he thought it such a good idea that all of them found them in their stockings that year – and if Sophie and Jamie’s were perhaps the slightest bit fancier than the others, the others decided to keep their thoughts to themselves beyond a bit of teasing between friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it seems like I'm writing a lot of fluff for a pretty angsty prompt. Well, enjoy the happy moments while they last.
> 
> Also – snorgle. A verb, for when you want to bury your face in a critter's fur and just rub back and forth. 
> 
> I'll be doing my best to update this on Fridays – if I tried to update more often I'd run out of buffer and you'd have to wait longer than a week, so sorry but it's gotta happen. I hope it's worth the wait each week.


	3. Chapter 3

North watched as Jack chatted to Phil, the winter spirit hovering over the yeti's shoulder as they walked along the bannister a floor below where North stood watching them.

It was summer in the northern hemisphere, and while Jack was now _the_ Spirit of Winter, he did most of his work in the northern hemisphere and only guided the southern spirits occasionally, helping to keep the seasons balanced when needed. It meant he could take the entire northern summer off if he was so inclined, barring emergencies, and now that there were others willing to pay attention to him on a regular basis, he was. 

Even if he had been afraid in the first few years of Guardianship of overstaying his welcome and driving them all away.

Jack did much more than they had thought before talking with him, North and the others had come to realize. Sometimes North wondered if Jack realized just how much responsibility he actually had on those slim shoulders despite his cocky assurance that he was 'all snowballs and fun times, no rules or responsibilities'.

Despite everything, Jack kept insisting he wasn't angry about the others not talking to him. They hadn't even interacted with the children – hell, Tooth hadn't even left her palace for longer than Jack had been alive – and he brushed it off with a claim that they'd had more to do than bother with a troublesome winter spirit. 

He may have been trying to make them feel less guilty, but it didn't work. 

They were trying harder now, but there were more spirits than North had remembered, even if so many of them had faded away over the last century as belief in them dropped. That was why he, and the other guardians, had stopped socializing with them originally – that and growing so involved in their duties they didn't even interact with the children they guarded.

Well, Jack was helping to change that, if only by bringing to their attention the other spirits who were friendly enough to try and befriend a prankster winter spirit. 

Despite at least some of them being pranksters just as bad as Jack, sometimes even worse – Loki, Spider, Raven, and Puck in particular – North was still planning a New Year's Eve party for them all, may Manny help the Pole once he had all those tricksters in one spot. Maybe he could get Jack to talk them into behaving for the evening.

Not likely, but he could try.

Thinking of the other spirits made North groan, remembering why he was watching Jack in the first place. Lately, it seemed like more and more of them were asking – or outright assuming – that Jack was his son.

It had been confusing, at first, to understand why they assumed Jack was his son. True, they both shared white hair and blue eyes, both were associated with winter, but that was where the similarities seemed to end.

Not that North was opposed to the idea – rather the opposite, in fact. He and Jack worked well off each other, bounced ideas and plans and crazy ideas off each other, played and went on crazy adventures together the way he'd always thought fathers and sons did. Jack was, in every way, the son North wished he could have had.

A child of his own...it was a dream he had given up long ago, before he had been chosen as a Guardian. It was one he had thought put to rest until these rumors stirred up that desire, made him look at Jack and wonder.

But he couldn't. He didn't deserve to have Jack as his son. They'd left him alone, for three hundred years. Some father he would be, to have ignored Jack all those years he needed someone and to only pay attention to him because the Moon said to. The thought caused a familiar pang to travel through North, and he clutched the tear Jack had given him tightly.

Jack kept insisting he'd been fine, overall. Yeah, it had been pretty lonely at times, but he'd had some friends – some more powerful than North had thought or dreamed would want to be friends with anyone, let alone Jack – so he wasn't alone all the time. Add in that he was healing from the isolation, and he got angry when the Guardians acted guilty or tried to 'make things up to him'. 

Angry Jack was _scary_. The one time he'd truly gotten angry with them, he hadn't yelled like they'd expected – he'd gone quiet, far too calm, icy and remote and terrifying, and had made the temperature of the room drop drastically with his voice alone. Never again. It certainly clued them in to why most spirits hesitated to mess with Jack, though.

North had a suspicion Jack was likely to hit the roof when he found out about the rumors. After all, he'd had a father before, when he was human, and he wasn't likely to appreciate North trying to take his place. Add to that a touch of lingering bitterness, despite everything – there weren't _that_ many spirits, and they just dismissed Jack as if he were nothing before the Moon said he was one of them, but now they wanted to be his family? North felt lucky Jack let them as close as he did.

North probably wasn't helping when it came to the rumors. He hadn't said anything to confirm or deny them, when it came right down to it. He didn't want to deny them, wished they were true, which was the main problem, and he hated to think what Jack would think if he heard North had denied being his father – probably that he was being rejected again.

He sighed and retreated to his workroom. He'd start on some sculptures and let his mind work while his hands were occupied.

 

Jack was perched in a tree by his lake and was _not_ sulking, thank you. 

He'd just flushed Raw Head and Bloody Bones from outside Burgess, and the spirit had gone off threatening to 'tell your father about what you've done'. It'd taken him a bit to realize what he'd meant.

That was the fifth time someone had assumed North was his father, and he wasn't sure what to think of it. On the one hand...he'd _had_ a father, a long time ago. He just...couldn't remember him very well, now. He knew he'd been tall, and kind, and liked to laugh, encouraged Jack in his mischief, but it was hard to remember his face or much more than that now.

On the other...he had a feeling his father wouldn't mind so much, if he made his own family now, if he let North be his second father. It wasn't like he was trying to replace his human father, he'd always have a special place in his heart, but North was...was like a dad to him already. 

Other spirits were assuming North was his father now that they were actually noticing him, and he'd tried to say North wasn't, but most hadn't listened or he hadn't been able to get the words in edgewise.

He'd made the mistake of referring to North as 'the old man' once or twice, too, forgetting how popular it was to refer to your father that way lately. And perhaps he hadn't denied it as much as he should have...

Maybe because he sometimes wished North _was_ his father. Even if they had technically ignored him for three hundred years, been too busy for even the children they protected...they were still acting like a family at times now, North in particular acting like his dad, sometimes almost as if he had forgotten they weren't family. And Jack found himself longing for that at times, even it was smothering at others...kinda like having a regular father, really.

It was silly to think North would want someone like him as a son. No one wanted him, no need to drive North away with wishing for something like that. Besides, it would likely end with everything awkward between all of them just as things were really getting good. 

With a sigh, Jack pushed it from his mind and took to the skies. They'd only been friends for a little over decade now, if they were going to be a family it would come with time. Goodness only knew he wasn't good at jumping into relationships himself. He'd let it stew and maybe, someday, he'd confront North about it.

Maybe he'd be lucky and it wouldn't land him on the Naughty List for another hundred years or so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So both Jack and North suck at that most basic of things, _talking_ to each other. Then again, this is a tricky area, and neither really has that much practice at this. 
> 
> ...somebody may need to get a cluebat though.


	4. Chapter 4

The huge television flickered, the channels flashing by as the room’s solo, bored occupant searched for something decent. Finally settling on one of the myriad “learning” channels, some documentary about a lake in southwestern Pennsylvania that never fully thawed, he left it on for background noise as he shifted his attention back to the paperwork in front of him.

It was amazing how it piled up, really, or how the less-than-legal side of his business generated just as much as the normal side. That just wasn't right, it really wasn't.

He continued to work until a chance word in the documentary caught his attention. Frowning, he turned to look at the television. The reporter was interviewing some child, asking the kid – fourteen, maybe? He didn’t have much experience with children, noisy, obnoxious things that they were, certainly not enough experience to judge their ages – about her necklace. 

The child beamed at the camera, holding up the necklace so they could see its pendant better. The watcher gasped, his hand going automatically to his tie pin, where a matching jewel sparkled. It had set him back a few cool million, and here was some brat with one, as if it was a cheap toy?

“Jack Frost gave it to me,” the kid was saying, looking at the priceless jewel in her hand fondly. “This is his lake, too, that’s why it never thaws. He doesn’t want it to. He wants to keep us safe.”

“Jack Frost, huh?” the reporter replied, humoring the kid, who nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah. You gotta believe in him to see him, but he’s awesome. He said he made this for me, and one for my brother and his each of his friends too, so we’ll never forget to believe.” 

The program cut away from the interview, the narrator explaining the myths about Jack Frost and the extra myths that surrounded the lake in question that connected it to him.

Frowning, the man opened his computer, beginning to search for the documentary he’d been watching. He needed a closer look at the jewel that kid had been wearing before he jumped to any conclusions. 

 

Two hours of research later, he leaned away from his laptop with a thoughtful frown. Burgess, was it? Most of the Snow Gems, as they’d been named for the tiny snowflake somehow caught in each, had been found there. Not that that was a large number. Snow Gems were so hard to find that they were practically a myth, and there still was no explanation for where they came from or how they were formed, to make finding them that much more difficult. 

There were certainly enough myths about where they came from and how they were formed to fill a library. The little gems were highly sought by those who knew of them, and most of them only cared to find where they came from so they could find more for themselves.

There were probably only around a hundred Snow Gems out there found so far, and most of those were on the black market. He would know, he dealt in most of them. Some people would pay almost anything for one.

Still…Jack Frost? That was a child’s story, an explanation for the frost on windows or the chill wind that seemed to follow you or try and play tricks. 

But on the other hand…Burgess had record snowfalls, a lake that never thawed, and, apparently, a group of children in possession of Snow Gems without knowing their value – that they claimed had been given to them by Jack Frost. Granted, that documentary was a few years old, so it was either teenagers or young adults now that held those Snow Gems, but still.

Reaching without looking, he paged for his secretary. It was time to get the experts on this job. He needed more information, and why have experts on the payroll if he never used them?

He wanted information on Jack Frost, and he wanted it _now_.

 

Jack whooped as he spun through the air, kicking off buildings and the sides of cars, waving at the kids who stared at him with open mouths, tugging at their parent’s sleeves and pointing at him. He wasn’t sure what the catalyst was, but more kids were seeing him every day, and it was _amazing_. He felt more alive than he had in centuries.

Shooting into the skies, he skimmed over the forest just beyond Jamie's house, giving the trees a coat of frost just because he could. It wouldn't last long, but that wasn't the point. It would be autumn soon anyway, may as well remind them of that.

He was still laughing when the net hit him, the thick rope tangling with arms and legs and staff, tearing the wood from his grip and sending it spiraling into the trees. Without his staff, shocked and with the heavy rope weighing him down, gravity took over and even the wind couldn’t stop his sudden plummet to the ground, slamming into the dirt and darkness following seconds later.

 

Dark. Why was it so dark? Panicking, Jack flailed, slowing as his hands felt thick, coarse fabric and rough rope. Slowly he remembered – there was a net, it took him out of the sky…feeling gingerly now, he trailed along the rope. Yes, that was the net, still wrapped around him, and he had to take several deep breaths to try and stave off more panic. It was hard, the rope was wrapped so tightly around him from his unconscious struggles it felt like it was constricting every breath he took. His exploring fingers found the cloth over the rope. It felt like rough burlap, and Jack guessed it was a sack of some kind. 

Sack or not, this wasn’t one of North’s friendly kidnappings. North’s sacks were heavy and hot, yes, but they weren’t coarse like this, and he’d stopped after Jack had finally admitted that yes, he was at least partially an elemental spirit, no, he didn’t like confined spaces and yes, he was being _sarcastic_ when he said he loved it. Besides, North wouldn't try and take him out of the sky like that!

That left North out, and none of the other Guardians would try something like this. Getting him in a sack for a prank, yes, but not taking him out of the sky. Pitch might, but he’d have used nightmare sand, and this just felt too…crude for Pitch.

Struggling still to keep the panic at bay and keep thinking, Jack ran through a list of all the spirits whose shit-list he was on. It was a long list, but it was mostly for silly little pranks, nothing that warranted much more than a return prank…Bloody Bones, maybe? He was still pissed about Jack saving those kids...same went for...Baba Yaga? But…no, Baba Yaga stayed in her territory, Bloody Bones was getting weak from lack of belief…

Through his rising panic, Jack suddenly realized someone was talking. Stilling, he tried to calm his breathing and hear what was being said.

“…hardly believe it! I mean, _Jack Frost_?”

“Knock it off, you heard the boss. We can’t see ‘im if we don’t _believe_ in ‘im, and the boss’ll go spare if we let ‘im get away ‘cuz _you_ decided to quit belivin.’”

What the…? Jack’s hands clutched at the ropes surrounding him, unconsciously freezing them in his panic. Adults? That could see him? And were using it to…he was being _kidnapped!?_

“Still gave me a turn to see ‘im flyin’ like that,” the first voice was saying, the one Jack immediately dubbed Goon Number 2, since he was obviously subordinate to the other voice, as a sudden bump jostled Jack, letting him know they were in a car of some kind. 

“I’m just glad you saw ‘im, ya great lump. Lucky he smacked ‘is head when ‘e landed, too, otherwise who knows how much trouble we would’a ‘ad wit’ ‘im. Damn, but ‘e ain’t ‘alf cold,” Goon Number 1 said. His voice was distracted, and Jack guessed he was driving them wherever they were going.

“Shouldn’t be alive, bein’ that cold.”

“’E’s a spirit, moron. ‘E ain’t properly alive, I’da guessed. Surprised the net’s ‘oldin ‘im, really.”

In the dark, Jack silently began to truly freak out. He didn’t have his staff, had no idea where it was, was trapped in a net in a sack heading who-knew-where with who-knew-who, but they were human and adult, and there wasn’t another Guardian meeting until next month, no set places anyone was expecting him to be until then... 

He was so screwed.

“Hey, pull over,” Goon Number 2 demanded suddenly.

“…ya just emptied yer bladder a mile ago, ya can’t possibly have to go again already.”

There was the sound of someone getting smacked as Jack went still.

“Naw, I thought I ‘eard somethin’. I think ‘e’s wakin’ up.”

If it were possible, Jack went even more still.

“Yer hearin’ things.”

“Look, just pull over so I can get in tha back and check, would ya?”

There was a groan from the front, but the car pulled over. Jack concentrated, trying to direct his ice in a steady stream on the ropes. It was harder without his staff, so used to using it to conduct his powers, and didn’t want to be directed. 

A slam, and Jack realized it was a van they were in, and that was the back doors slamming open. Jack froze, both literally and figuratively, fear and adrenalin giving his powers a sharp boost, ice coating the net and bag. As the man climbed in the back of the van, grunting with exertion and grumbling under his breath, Jack focused everything he had on his ice.

Finally the rope gave way, freezing and shattering. As Goon Number 2’s hands brushed the bag the fabric gave way, following the rope’s example.

Jack shot out of the ruined bag and net like he was shot from a cannon, desperately wishing to take to the skies for escape and hopelessly grounded.

Why didn't he practice flying without his staff? _Why?_

Goon Number 2 bellowed like a wounded bull, his hand closing on Jack’s hoodie by sheer chance. Jack went wild, kicking and fighting, toppling both of them out of the back of the van as Goon Number 2 bellowed for his friend to help catch Jack.

Trying to get a firm hold on Jack was like trying to catch a greased otter. It took both men to finally pull Jack back into the van and pin him down, with many a curse as ice bit their fingers and sheathed Jack, making them lose their grip again and again, hands slipping off the slick coating.

Suddenly there was a cloth forced over his nose and mouth, its sickly sweet scent cloying and choking him, and a jab in his side, and Jack cursed soundly, his struggles growing weaker by the minute until the battle was lost and the darkness overwhelmed him, falling into its smothering embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I did warn everybody, right? 'Cuz here we go.


	5. Chapter 5

In the woods outside Burgess, Pitch slid through the shadows, avoiding the edges of the town. Irritating as it may have been to visit the scene of his defeat, that entrance was the easiest to open, and the children of this city the most willing to believe, their belief bolstered by actually seeing those obnoxious Guardians on a fairly regular basis.

Yes, belief was strongest when it came without proof, but Frost couldn't keep away, and he led the others astray from their so-noble and aloof headquarters. They should have kept away from the children after that night and let them grow without seeing spirits, but Frost just had to keep visiting, and somehow pulled the others into it rather than them pulling him into 'proper' Guardian behavior of watching from afar.

If he were inclined to amusement, it would be amusing how easily Frost could lead them like that. Still, Pitch wondered how long those pompous Guardians would put up with Frost's mischief-making before trying to turn him into a 'proper' Guardian or pushing him aside for more important matters.

The question was, did he mock Frost when that happened, or wait until he was ripe with despair to try luring him in again? He could still use Frost, it was true, but after that rejection...perhaps it would be best to mock him, lure him in and finally make himself a fearling prince?

He could almost see it, if it worked as he thought it should. Frost, with blank streaks of nightmare sand in his hair, harsh against the white strands. Grey streaks against the white of his skin, tinged blue from the cold, blue fingers wielding a frozen staff, icicles clinging to delicate ears and the folds of his clothes. His eyes would be cold and wild as the winter he brought under Pitch's command, ruling at his side with the masses trembling at his frostbitten feet.

Distracted by his thoughts, Pitch had to stop and look again when his subconscious yelled at him that he was missing something incredibly important, that something was very, very wrong.

Stopping, he squinted up into the tree that felt somehow wrong. It took time before he realized what he was seeing, blending in with the branches of the tree as it was, and a nightmare fetched it out of the tree for him, backing away quickly once he held it.

Their rebellion had been brief, and Pitch had been sure to remind them who their master was.

Frowning, he stared at the object his nightmare had fetched him, a mix of emotions filling his chest.

Frost's staff, bare of his trademark frost, felt thin and remarkably fragile in his hands without Frost's power humming through it despite being a solid, heavy branch of what appeared to be oak. There was a faint hint to it, the barest thrum of power that kept it connected to Frost, that tingled across his palms, but it was nothing like its usual blinding rush of power, that high that he'd felt from it when both he and Frost had held it in that one instant. 

It was a small rush despite that, knowing he held something so important to the Winter Spirit captive in his hands, as intimate as holding part of the spirit's very soul.

The question now was...where was Frost? 

He couldn't be far...and if the staff was abandoned...Frost wouldn't drop it willingly, so...

 

An hour later, his nightmares still hadn't found anything. 

He wasn't worried. He _wasn't_. 

He just didn't want someone else taking out Frost. The Guardians were _his_ enemies, had been since this planet was first created, and no upstart little spirits were going to get in his way.

Now that Frost was a Guardian, that went for him too. Plus, he had to make Frost pay for his rejection. He couldn't do that if someone else took him out first.

So when he took the staff with him and left some of his regained nightmares searching for Frost, it didn't mean he was something as weak as being worried or to keep it safe. 

It was for ransom, obviously. No other reason.

 

When dawn broke over Burgess, it found Pitch hovering outside the town limits again. He glared down at the staff in his hand, lifting his lip in a sneer.

Every so often these... _emotions_ would surface, the same ones that led him to try making a fearling prince or princess, beyond the obvious power that having one would give him, or stopped him from giving a child the scare it deserved. Even now, they were demanding he give the staff to someone who would get it back to Frost, that he must be in danger and his family needed to know.

Honestly, he _wanted_ the spirit in danger. From him, at least, he rationalized. If he got the staff to them, then they'd fetch him and he could attack while their guard was down.

Yes, that was the reason.

At least he could feed on the fear of those who allied himself with the winter spirit, he added silently. He glared at the house that stood closest to the woods, where Jack's precious first believer had lived. The brat was nearly grown now, but he was back in his childhood home for a few days, so he may as well drop this burden on the brat and give him a proper fright.

It wasn't revenge, but for now, it would do.

Hopefully, wherever he was, the brat was _suffering._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, I'm not going for Blackice here, sorry. It just sort of happened. I'm playing with the idea that, when Pitch isn't strong, Kozmotis' memories have more sway and gives him a bit more control than the fearlings do – and Kozmotis was, and is, a father that would do anything for his child. So Pitch is a little conflicted right now. Pitch is confused and confusing.


	6. Chapter 6

Jack groaned as he woke up. His head was throbbing, and he gritted his teeth against the pain, forcing himself to think through it as memories surfaced. The net, the van, the cloth and what had to have been a needle...a wave of nausea hit and he groaned again. _Why_ would people drug themselves willingly? He hadn't felt sick like this since he'd been human!

He tried to lift his head and started to panic. He couldn't move his head! Struggling, he managed to glance down, trying to see something, anything to let him know what was happening. 

It felt like...a chair, tilted back, like a dentist's chair, and his arms were clamped down onto the chair's arms at wrist and bicep, his legs clamped down at the ankles and a chain locked around his waist. He shifted his head, realizing there was another clamp holding his head in place, keeping him from moving.

The one against his head hurt faintly, the cold iron sharp against his skin. He was too powerful for it to burn him the way it did less powerful spirits and the true fae, but he wanted it _off._

What he could see of the room was bright white, not the clean, comforting white of his snow and ice but the deathly harsh white of a lab, and it stank of antiseptic with the faintest hint of blood under it. The humans could probably only smell the antiseptic, but while his nose was nowhere near as good as Bunny's all spirits had better senses than humans, and Jack could smell it.

This was _bad_.

His heart hammered so hard it felt like it was trying to force its way out of his chest as he panicked, panting for breath. No full elemental would go inside if they could help it, and he may not have been a full seasonal or elemental, but he was close enough. He didn't like closed in _rooms_ , and now he _couldn't move_.

His frost was creeping over the chair and his breath came out in visible little puffs as the temperature around him dropped rapidly. He couldn't remember ever being so afraid before, even in Pitch's lair. 

Behind him he heard a door open, several sets of feet entering the room by the sound of it. 

Jack had never wanted to be invisible so badly before in his entire life.

“So...this is him?” a male voice asked, sounding as though he were standing just to the back of the chair, out of Jack's range of sight.

“So the men say. And look at the chair and his clothing, sir. Covered in frost, and he is breathing it out as well.” Automatically Jack held his breath, trying to control himself so the frost would stop, in his breath at least. 

A man stepped into view, middle aged, dressed in a dark suit. He frowned, tracing a finger down Jack's cheek and smirking when Jack tried to jerk away. “I rather thought he would look older,” was the mild comment. “Or more...I'm not sure, otherworldly. He just looks like some homeless teenager. Rather cold to the touch, at least.”

There was no answer to that, as the man picked up a chair and moved it closer to the chair holding Jack, settling himself in comfortably and casually crossing his legs.

“So – Jack Frost. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Afraid I can't say the same, considering the circumstances,” Jack said, trying for flippant. He was good at flippant. The man leaned back in his chair, resting his chin in his hand and elbow in opposite hand, regarding Jack thoughtfully. 

“How can you see me? You're an adult! What's going on?” Jack demanded, for once suddenly impatient with games.

“The only requirement to seeing you is belief, it seems. Being a child isn't part of it. As for what's going on – I have some questions for you.” The man leaned forward, looking intently at Jack's face before holding up a tie pin. “Recognize this?”

Jack's heart sank as he recognized one of his tears set in the pin like a precious jewel. It was just a tear, why would he...

“Where...how did you get that?” he asked, suddenly far, far more afraid than he had been before.

“So you do recognize it. Good,” the man said, putting the pin back in his tie. “I want to know where it came from.”

“Why should I tell you?” Jack demanded. “Besides, you didn't answer my question.”

“I bought it, of course. I deal in them.” 

Deal in them? Jack thought in shock, nearly missing what the man said next.  


“They're expensive and rare, incredibly so. Imagine my surprise when I see a child with one! And one they claim was given to them by Jack Frost, of all...people.”

“It took me a lot of research to find out about you,” he continued, and privately Jack decided that whoever this man was, he loved the sound of his own voice. “But there are only around a hundred of these Snow Gems on the market right now. I want more of them, and that girl in the documentary said that Jack Frost gave her one. So, Jack Frost – where did you get the Snow Gem you gave that child?”

“Snow Gems? That's what you call them? And here I thought they were silly enough without giving them a frou-frou name,” Jack said mockingly. When unsure, taunt.

Okay, so it wasn't always the _best_ plan, but it was all he had right now until he could freeze the restraints off this chair. Since they were metal, it was going to take awhile. Someone must have tattled about what happened in the van.

“Silly name, perhaps, but the price people will pay for them is definitely not silly. Stop evading the question, Frost. How did you get that gem? Where did you find it? They're gemstones, so you had to dig it up somewhere.”

“Shows what you know. Maybe it's the Antarctic, hm? Middle of Greenland? What if they're from someplace you can't go? Where else would a winter spirit go for something like that?”

“Unless you carry them in that ridiculous shirt of yours, then you're stalling. The few that have been found have been too scattered to come from just one place. The majority have come from around Burgess, anyway, and there's nothing of any worth there.”

“Ridiculous? Excuse you, this is the best shirt in the world. _Way_ comfier than whatever it is you're wearing.”

The man snarled before he controlled himself. “Don't tempt me, boy. This could go easy on you – I'm willing to offer you a life of luxury in exchange for information about the Snow Gems. If you continue to be stubborn about this, then things will get very unpleasant for you very quickly.”

“Even your goons knew I'm a spirit, rich man,” Jack spat, making 'rich man' into an epithet. “I'm the Shepherd of Winter. You can't give me what I want or need. And I don't know anything about where the 'Snow Gems', if that's what you want to call them, come from, not that I'd tell you if I did.”

“I would rather you cooperate with us, but if you continue to refuse we will have no choice but to force you,” the man said, sounding firm but regretful. “It's too bad that the only ones who can see you have to believe first, but we should be able to work with that. All it takes is one.”

He nodded to someone out of Jack's line of sight who stepped forward, a tall man in a long white doctor's coat who stood looking down at Jack with eyes that made Jack's stomach clench. An assistant wheeled a table up beside him, stepping back out of Jack's line of sight as silently as he'd appeared.

The man in white picked a small glass wand up from the table, fiddling with a little black box next to it.

“I would rather he not be too badly damaged, if possible,” the rich man said, standing. “Unless you have to, of course. Do whatever you think necessary.”

“Of course, sir,” the doctor replied, “leave it to me.”

The rich man nodded as Jack glared at them both, focusing his cold into the metal clamps. He could feel them freezing, the temperature around them dropping, but not cold enough yet, not to shatter metal.

He didn't bother paying attention to the rich man as he left, focusing instead on freezing the clamps.

The doctor looked down at him for a few seconds before putting down his glass wand, picking up something Jack couldn't see. Seconds later the front of his hoodie was sliced open, baring his chest, and Jack swore – creatively.

“Do you have any idea how hard it was to find that? I liked that hoodie, you bastard!” he complained. 

The doctor didn't reply, and seconds later Jack swore more creatively as the doctor touched that wand to his nipple, forcing him into a full body jerk, the clamps biting into his skin as his muscles contracted against the brutal shock the tiny little wand delivered.

It _hurt_ , and Jack swore more as he gasped for breath.

The doctor tsked as he adjusted the box for the wand. “You're around children with that mouth?” he scolded mildly. 

“ _Silflay hraka u Embleer-rah_ ,” Jack replied, mentally thanking Bunny. Australian was good to swear in, but Pookan was even better. 

No reply but a touch of the wand against his shoulder, forcing another yelp and jerk out of Jack. He panted as the doctor ran the wand over his stomach and chest, involuntarily bucking so hard he thought he would break his wrists when the shock finally came. He struggled for breath, holding back the tears through sheer will. 

Each shock forced his muscles to react, straining against the restraints harder than he ever would voluntarily. They were completely random, and he couldn't brace himself against them. The aftershock was worse than the shocks themselves, the pain of muscles cramping and spasming, painful tingling left from the bite, his wrists and ankles freezing over as the clamps bit in with each jerk and twist, cutting into him.

Even worse, he realized...he's a _winter spirit_. Even when he didn't have to eat for years on end without believers, he had to _drink_. His power was frozen water, he conducted it, breathed it out as frost and directed it with barely a thought, and the electricity fizzled along that water harder than it would in a human.

As the wand bit again and again, random points over his body and with no telling when the next shock would come, he gritted his teeth and forced the tears back. He _would not_ tell, would keep the tears at bay, refuse to cry and let them know...but dammit, the Guardians needed to find him before he gave himself away!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I warned that I can be evil, right? Okay good.


	7. Chapter 7

Jack was panting, struggling for breath by the time they put away the wand. They'd spaced the shocks out just enough to prevent him the mercy of passing out, and he was shaking with exhaustion.

He tried to think as they talked, so-called doctor and his assistant, behind him where he couldn't see them, could barely hear them muttering. He saw Sandy every few nights right now – it was summer up north, and he didn't do much down south unless someone asked for his help as the Spirit or Shepherd of Winter – which meant he didn't have much to do, but it was also too warm for him to be comfortable up north for too long – a couple of days at most before he was heading for some snow. Add to that that the few summer spirits were old and still considered summer a time for work the way it had been a hundred years ago, apparently having an ongoing contest to see who could get the stick farthest up their backside...

It meant he avoided them, which meant sleeping all summer or now, hanging out with North or Tooth or Bunny, or going down to Antarctica and adding to his castle, or inviting the others to come play in the snow, or even just passing out somewhere cold for awhile. No help there, if they thought he was sleeping. Still, he saw Sandy pretty regularly, and he was by North's so often, and Bunny...

They would look for him, Jack reminded himself. The Guardians wanted to be his family, his friends, now, they'd learned when they almost lost everything they'd built by starting to drift apart that they couldn't ignore each other again. They _would_ look for him!

He had to hold on to that!

The assistant left and he focused on breathing, the steady in and out, trying to focus his powers. He could reach them – easier when he wasn't in pain and so afraid, making them violent and wild – but it was so hard to focus them. He relied too much on his staff as a conduit for his powers, now that he was without it it was hard to force his powers into the intense cold needed to shatter metal, harder still to do it so the doctor wouldn't notice what he was doing. If he did, they would try something else, or it would be too widespread to affect the clamps.

“Are you sure about this, sir? It seems a rather drastic escalation,” he heard the assistant ask.

“He's who knows how old and he's obviously able to resist pain like the wand. You know Mr. Rathman wants results quickly.”

They moved back into Jack's line of sight, shivering as the temperature continued to plummet. The doctor glared down at him, shaking an admonishing finger. “Now, that's no way to be, Frost. All you have to do is cooperate and all of this will end, you know.”

“Oh, and you'll just let me go? Like I believe that,” Jack shot back. The doctor shrugged, pulling on a pair of heavy gloves as he unclamped Jack's left ankle, gripping onto Jack's leg tightly.

Immediately the glove frosted over, the temperature dropping further as Jack fought to free his leg. He was much stronger than his skinny frame indicated, and it took both doctor and assistant to force his foot into the heavy block of oak and iron the assistant had dragged in as Jack struggled and yelled. They clamped it around his foot and calf, the cold iron pressing onto his skin tightly as they bound it closed around his limb.

Jack fought to free himself, the iron and wood boot heavy as an anchor over his leg, unable to move it so much as an inch, chaining him to the ground, its weight alone on his body already painful as it tethered him unmercifully to the ground. 

A nod from the doctor and his assistant turned the screwjack on its side with a jerk, the whole of the iron constricting cruelly around Jack's foot.

Jack's scream was that of the blizzard, anger and fear and pain in a wild, uncontrollable sound as his eyes shot open, bucking against the clamps holding him down. It was crushing his foot, ablaze with pain already with that one tightening of the vice.

His harsh, gasping breaths were the only sound in the room for a few moments as he fought back tears. The chair was covered in ice, icicles connecting floor to chair as Jack lost control in his pain.

“Where do the Snow Gems come from?” the doctor demanded. Jack bit his lip, fighting not to scream it out and beg them to stop but he couldn't take this!

His scream when the screw turned again was a child's scream of unbearable pain, loss and fear making him wail like the wind when tears slipped free of his eyes, sliding off the chair and clinking onto the tile floor. “No! No, no, stop, please stop it!” he screamed, the cry bursting forth against his will as he collapsed back onto the chair, struggling to breathe through the haze of unbearable pain.

As his wail faded away Jack could hear the doctor gasp, vaguely heard him kneel next to the chair, scooping up the tears like the precious gems they claimed they were.

He looked between Jack and the tears in his hand, and Jack could see him making the connection, especially when one more tear slid from his eye, the doctor catching it as it fell.

“Please,” Jack whispered, burning with shame that he had broken so quickly, in too much pain to care what he sounded like, to care that he was pleading, “you've got your answer. Please take it off.”

The doctor nodded absently, giving his assistant a gesture. Jack collapsed against the chair as the pressure eased and the cruel thing was taken away, struggling to feel through the pain how much damage they'd caused. 

Pain shot white-hot sparks up through his leg when Jack tried to move his foot and he struggled not to whimper, his sobbing breaths loud in the still room as the doctor and helper moved to the side, discussing their discovery in hushed voices.

He didn't think anything was broken, but it was hard to tell through the pain. He'd been hit before, had his share of fights, but never had someone deliberately cause him pain like this, never this intense. Even the fight with Pitch paled in comparison to this deliberate pain. 

There was talking behind him, and he realized the boss had returned. They were talking, and out of the corner of his eye he saw the doctor showing the boss the new tears even as more welled up in his eyes.

“Tears? Really?” he heard the rich man ask, looking over at him. “What's with all the ice?”

“He _is_ Jack Frost,” the doctor reminded him. “It happened when we used the boot.”

“Why did you stop?” the boss demanded. “We want as many of those tears as possible.”

The doctor smiled down at Jack, who tried to suppress a shudder at the implications in that smile. “Haven't you ever heard the story of the goose and the golden eggs, sir? His pain threshold is high enough we would have to cause him damage to force him to cry. Do that too often, and he won't be of any use to anyone.”

“So what do you suggest?” the boss demanded, fondling the new tears greedily. “He's not going to cry just because we asked him to.”

The doctor's smile grew. “Well, sir – we have yet to see if it's just the tears. And it seems a shame to use pain alone when there are so many better ways to make a pretty boy cry.”

The boss' smile slowly grew to match the doctor's, and Jack shrank back against the chair in involuntary fear. He wasn't sure what they meant, but he had to get out of here!

“Just leave it to me, sir. Just leave it all to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...you do not want to know what my Google history looks like thanks to this story.


	8. Chapter 8

It was hard to worry Sandy.

Even after a few millenia, it was still remarkably easy to ruffle most immortals who had made it that far – save Sandy, who marked time differently from the others, and had seen too much to let the little things that worked them up get to him. 

So Sandy could face most things with equanimity. Not that he couldn't worry, and did, just...most things didn't make him lose sleep.

But – he hadn't seen Jack in four days.

That wasn't so unusual, there could be a full week at times that he might not see Jack. It was just...Jack liked spending time with him. At least, Sandy liked to think so. And it had been quite a while since it had been more than three days at most before Jack had sought him out.

And for some reason, he didn't like the fact that he hadn't seen Jack in four days. Maybe he was becoming a worrier in his old age, but he didn't like it.

Frowning, he finished sending out the last dreams for this cycle. He was going to head for the Pole, he decided. The children wouldn't be hurt by a few hours' sleep with only the dreams their own subconscious came up with or dreamless sleep.

Jack was probably at the Pole, since it was late summer in the Northern hemisphere. If he wasn't, then North would know where Jack was, and they'd all have a good laugh at Sandy's worries over cookies.

Thinking of North and Jack made Sandy want to roll his eyes even as he swirled his dreamsand into a plane and set off for the pole. He just needed to give them time and they'd work it out...but if they didn't soon, he just might have to take a few steps. 

Just because they were all going to live for who knew how long didn't mean he had to be patient waiting for his friends – or friend and adopted nephew – to finally stop dancing around the elephant in the room and make each other happy.

The Pole came into view and Sandy urged a little more speed out of his sand plane. The sooner he saw North and Jack, the better.

 

It took them ten minutes to scrape enough ice off Jack's arm to get at the skin, but the doctor insisted on using the injected drug rather than the gas. Jack wasn't making it easy for them, making more ice as quickly as they scraped it away.

Finally disgusted, the doctor turned up the heat, cranking it higher and higher until Jack was forced into being able to do little more than lay back and pant as the temperature climbed. 

He'd thought he was all right with heat, but not like this, to these extremes. His ice finally giving up in the face of the overwhelming heat and human stubbornness, it flaked off his arm and he felt the sharp prick of their needle.

He closed his eyes against the dizziness as the heat and their drug started to work, fighting as long as he could before finally passing out.

 

When he woke up, he wished he could pass back out again, hands clenching on the arm rests hard enough to make them creak. _His clothes were missing._

Someone had taken his clothes while he was out, leaving him exposed, and he could feel the frost creeping down his face and chest already.

The modern times may take a looser view of nudity, but he liked being covered up, never let anyone see him unclothed, and now he was trapped with no idea where his clothes were.

He was clamped down again, more metal holding his arms in place at wrist and bicep, no hoodie between him and the clamps this time, and they stung faintly. His head was clamped in place once more, tighter now that they knew his tears formed jewels so he couldn't hide them, and wouldn't loosen no matter how hard he fought. 

Worst of all – most embarrassing of all – whoever had brought him here and strapped him into this table, this new one with stirrups, had clamped his ankle and calf into those stirrups, hoisting his legs into the air and holding them apart, leaving him naked and exposed and helpless.

He struggled to at least bring his knees together, to find some semblance of modesty, but the iron had no give to it and kept them too far apart. His foot was still throbbing, and he took a moment to send ice to form around it in a light cast, hoping there wasn't permanent harm. He'd heal, whatever they'd done, but if it healed wrong...

Footsteps sounded from behind the struggling Jack, and the doctor from earlier walked into his view.

“Oh, good, you're awake. We probably could find out what we want to know just as easily if you were still unconscious, but you might be persuaded to tell us what we know if you're awake.”

Jack snorted, covering his embarrassment and fear with scorn as best he could. “Like I have anything to tell you. What, I answer all your questions and you just let me go off to do my job? Why would I believe that after everything you've done? What'd you do with my clothes, you damn pervert?”

“You won't be needing them,” the doctor said calmly. “Now, this is going to be much more pleasant for you if you will just cooperate. How is it your tears turn into Snow Gems?”

Knowing it would irritate the doctor while still being the full truth, Jack shrugged as much as he could while clamped down. 

No other spirit Jack had met had rock tears that he'd known, and he'd never asked. Could have been a million reasons, he certainly wasn't doing it on purpose.

“...very well. I'll pretend that was an actual answer and not you being difficult,” the doctor said, glaring down at Jack. “But since you're being uncooperative – I'll just find out the rest on my own.”

Jack began to struggle again as the doctor picked up a scalpel. “Now, it would be nice to know at what point tears turn to Snow Gems, but it's rather irrelevant. First question – is it just the tears?”

Jack hissed in a breath, gritting his teeth against the pain as that scalpel was drawn along the inside of his thigh with a casual flick, like a painter testing a brush. A line of red appeared along the expanse of skin on display, stark against the snow paleness of Jack's skin. When it didn't start to bleed immediately, the doctor took scalpel to thigh again, pressing harder against the skin until blood welled up around the blade.

Biting down on his lip until he thought it might bleed too, Jack fought back any noise that tried to escape and forced back tears. The cut on his thigh began to bleed and the doctor watched it intently, eyes focused on a bead of blood that trailed down Jack's leg. It hung a moment before falling to the ground, clinking quietly as it hit the floor.

The doctor gave a pleased noise as he bent to retrieve the small drop, hissing when he touched it with an involuntary “Cold!”

Prepared this time, he scooped up the little bead, looking it over carefully. It was a tiny drop of blood, frozen solid, deep dark red under the harsh florescent lights. Eagerly he turned to write down that Jack Frost's blood turned into jewels as well when he felt his fingers grow damp. Looking back at the blood, he saw it beginning to thaw in his hand, losing its shape and slowly melting back to liquid.

Scowling, he wrote down what had happened as Jack struggled against his bonds, almost unconsciously icing the wound over to protect it and urge it to heal faster.

Flicking away the now melted blood, the doctor stood and turned back to Jack. “Fine, so your blood freezes but doesn't form jewels. Useless for our purposes, if interesting. We still have one more thing to test. If I'm lucky, I can make you cry while we're at it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To make the time clear – Jack's been captive about two days now. One day traveling to get to where he's being held, and then...  
> So two days when he didn't visit Sandy, and now two captive.
> 
> Also, I'm suddenly tempted to do Sandy's "Dialogue" at least partially in Wingdings. *facepalm*


	9. Chapter 9

Jack couldn't see what the doctor was doing, but when a cool, slick, gloved finger touched him in an area he most decidedly did not want _him_ touching, he jerked against the restraints, freezing over most of the chair.

“Don't touch me!” he cried, straining to get away from that intrusive hand. “I'll freeze off anything you shove in me, I swear I will!”

“Don't be so dramatic, Frost,” the doctor scolded, pulling back with a curse when the temperature around Jack dropped dramatically, ice forming on his gloved hand.

“Fine, if you want to be difficult about this, then we'll have to do this the hard way. Honestly, Frost, this is one time I didn't intend you harm.”

“Your definition of 'harm' and mine are obviously worlds apart,” Jack growled, all playfulness gone from his voice. He could be sarcastic, could fight with words, usually preferred them, but now, though...the doctor turned away to get something and Jack concentrated, feeling the ice form over his body. It was reluctant without his usual conduit, but still obeyed, forming thick plates over his body, concentrating around his groin until he was covered in a thick layer of ice over every inch of his body, thickest in his most sensitive areas.

The doctor turned back and stopped short, staring at the ice armor with wonder, surprise, and irritation in his gaze. “Well played, Frost. Very well. If this is how you wish to play this, then so be it.”

 

Sandy flew into the Pole though the skylight North left open ostensibly for all the flying Guardians, but Sandy knew was really to let Jack know he was always welcome. He circled the globe, searching for North.

He let his plane dissipate as Phil looked up and gestured toward North's personal workshop, giving the yeti a nod. He knocked at the door, opening it a few beats later knowing North probably hadn't heard his knocking with his music as loud as it was.

North was hunched over his workbench, intently carving something. Sandy glanced around, hoping Jack was sitting in the room, watching North or carving something of his own as he sometimes did, the two sharing a silent understanding that didn't need words.

No luck. The room was empty save for North and a few of the elves, who snuck everywhere in the Pole. Frowning, Sandy sent a few streams of dreamsand toward North, letting their glow announce his presence. Startling North in the workshop was entertaining, but he needed North to talk to him, not rant about being startled.

It took some time before North noticed his presence, he was so wrapped up in his work. Still, he turned with a grin to Sandy, ready to show off his latest project.

“Is for Jack,” he declared, turning the small snowflake over in his hands. “I was planning to enchant it later. Ah, but did you need something, Sandy? Or is it just a casual visit?”

A casual visit, that would have been almost unheard of before Jack. Sandy sighed, shaking his head and forming a map with a trail to an X over his head.

“Oh, you are looking for something?”

“How can I help?”

Sandy beamed, creating a snowflake and adding Jack's staff to the image to be sure it was clear, pointing to the images he formed over his head to be sure North's attention focused on them. Jack had made a point of stopping to 'listen' to Sandy, awarding himself points for getting things right on the first go, and the others had taken to the game. Another thing to thank Jack for.

North watched, interpreting the signals quickly. “You are looking for Jack? I am sorry, friend, but I have not seen him for several days now.” The cassock sighed, sitting heavily in his chair. “Not that I have hold on him, why does everyone think they can find Jack here? You are the third this month to come seeking him here.”

Sandy rolled his eyes and resisted spelling out, in big, simple pictures, just why everyone thought Jack could be found at the Pole and how the two of them needed to just sit down and talk about it already, focusing instead on trying to make North understand why he was looking.

A moon and sun swapped places several times, as an x-ed out snowflake hung beside them.

“You...let me see...days? Several days? It has been days since you have seen Jack?” Sandy nodded and North frowned. “Is not all that unusual, is it? Jack is still free spirit, he has no schedule.”

More signs, a moon flashing by twice before a moon and snowflake, repeated in random patterns before a moon for four or five times. “You usually do see him every few nights and he's missed it? Is that really so much to worry over?”

Sandy nodded firmly and North stood, starting to pace. “You are sure is not just Jack forgetting to meet you?” Sandy nodded again. 

he 'said', trying to say with symbols that Jack may have missed before but this time, it was, well...

“A feeling? In your belly?” North repeated, touching his own, oft maligned predicting belly. “Do you want me to use aurora, call the others?”

Sandy made a waffling motion with one hand. He wanted the others called, yes, but he wasn't sure it was quite up to the aurora. It was just a feeling, after all.

“...I send elves to Warren and yeti to Tooth Palace,” North decided. “Will bring them quickly without panic over aurora. Bunny especially, Bunny hates elves in Warren – always getting in the paints.”

Sandy nodded, silently giggling at his friends. It wasn't Jack, but he'd take this reaction. At least North was taking it seriously. Settling down, Sandy prepared to tease his friend about his feelings for their winter spirit as they waited for the others to arrive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So - the Wingdings are a little irritating, but also kind of fun. I hope they aren't too confusing and someone likes them.  
> As for Jack...not as defenseless as they thought.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler - see that 'punishment enema' tag up there? Skip the second part of this chapter if you don't want anything to do with that.  
> (Jack doesn't eat, so the usual consequences are missing, but still. Forewarning.)

North gave the other two Guardians the news of Jack's disappearance as soon as they arrived, and now Tooth fluttered anxiously as Bunny's ears went flat to his back.

“...you're sure he's not just messing with you?” Bunny asked from his spot by the fire, where he was trying to warm life back into his feet. If it wasn't a security hazard he'd try and force North to let him open his tunnels closer to the workshop, Sandy was sure.

He was trying to act unconcerned, but Sandy had enough practice with reading Bunny to know he was far, far more worried than he was acting. If anything, Sandy suspected the feelings Bunny had for their youngest Guardian were less and less brotherly as time went on.

Actually, he rather suspected Bunny was subtly starting to court Jack, testing the waters to see if Jack might be interested. Not that Sandy was going to give him away. It was too funny to watch them inch their way toward it – unless they danced around it as ridiculously as Jack and North were, when it stopped being funny.

Tooth was frowning, dipping in the air as she thought. “He hasn't disappeared on us in years, though,” she said. “Maybe you should have used the aurora, North. No matter what he's doing, Jack would drop it for that.”

“Bit of overkill there Toothie,” Bunny said, loping over to join them. “But you're right, he doesn't disappear on us anymore unless he's planning something big.” He cocked an ear at North. “Got any ideas on that, North?”

“Why everyone think I know what Jack is planning?” North groused as the other three took a moment to look amused. “I do not, I have not seen him just the same as Sandy.”

Sandy waved to get their attention, symbols flashing by. 

“You've been keeping watch but no luck?” Bunny asked, getting a thumbs up even as Sandy frowned. 

They all exchanged worried looks. “I don't like it,” Tooth said firmly at long last. “Jack doesn't like being alone anymore for more than a day or two. But I don't even know where we'd start looking for him, or if he even wants found.”

Bunny shifted, and Sandy, despite his worry, had to fight back a smile. Bunny and North could try to hide how they felt all they liked, Sandy could see right through them.

...after he got North to accept how he felt about Jack, and get Jack to do the same, he'd have to see about locking Bunny and Jack in a closet together. Either they'd both come out shaved bald and firmly brothers, or they'd never want to come out. It would be funny either way – for Sandy. 

After they found Jack.

He waved, getting the others' attention again. 

“Oh, of course!” Tooth said, “My girls would love to opportunity to look for Jack while they work. Then tomorrow we meet back here – hopefully one of us will find something.”

“I'll give Mother Nature a chin wag,” Bunny declared. “She's still neutral, but Jack's of winter, so she might know if he was supposed to whip up something big down South or get started on autumn early. Mah normal tracking doesn't do much good when he never stays on the ground for more'n a minute at a time.”

“If he's gotten up to mischief, then they will come complain to me,” North declared. “Still do not know why, but they do.”

“It's decided then – good luck, everyone,” Tooth said, giving a firm nod and shooting out the balcony door North had asked the yeti to build, now that three flyers were visiting on a regular basis. She preferred it to the skylight.

Bunny and Sandy gave North each a nod and headed out, all of them far more worried then they were pretending to be.

 

Despite Jack's best efforts, his ice was melting.

He gasped in the heat and cursed silently. After his attempt at protecting himself with ice, the damned doctor had first taken measurements of the ice, pictures of the impromptu armor, documented all of it – and then turned up the heat mercilessly high, so high Jack was beginning to wonder if he might melt along with his ice.

He hadn't necessarily _avoided_ heat before this, but he hadn't spent time somewhere quite this hot before either. Even Tooth's palace didn't feel as hot as this, and he would know, he'd spent enough time there by now just hanging out with her and her fairies. 

Despite the heat, he kept trying to renew his ice, but it was melting faster than he could create it, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep this up.

The doctor was watching him closely and avidly taking notes even as Jack's chest heaved for air, the last of his ice beginning to break apart and slide from his body. 

Jack fought for a glare when the doctor stood over him, but even he knew it was weak, exhausted as he was already from fighting the heat. The floor was slick with his melted ice, and he sincerely hoped the doctor would slip on it. 

“Are you ready to cooperate now, Frost?” he asked. Jack growled up at him, undeterred, and twisted his wrist until he could make a very rude gesture toward the mortal. “I think you need punished for refusing to cooperate. Besides, we do need to make sure everything's clean.”

Jack wasn't sure what he meant by that, just that he wasn't going to like it. It took effort to bite back curses as something slipped inside of him so he didn't bother trying, the steady stream of Australian-influenced Pookan filling the air as the doctor stood between his legs holding something that looked like nothing more than a giant syringe. He pressed on the plunger, slow and steady, and Jack arched against the clamps as hot water, mildly warm for a human but scalding to him, invaded his body.

He gritted his teeth, fighting back tears of humiliation and rage as the water kept coming, filling him far fuller than he was sure he could stand, gasping for air as he was filled to his limits. 

Despite his best efforts a few tears slipped free as the syringe was slipped from his body and something else worked inside.

He gasped and strained against the clamps as the plug the doctor had forced inside him expanded, plugging up his slender body and trapping the water inside.

It was hard to breathe, and Jack gripped the arm rests in a death grip as his body fought against the invasion, so full he could barely stand it, just this side of painful, too hot and too full and just too much.

The doctor dared to place a hand on Jack's stomach, slightly swollen from all the water. “I told you it was a punishment,” he commented. “but perhaps you're enjoying it? Are you? Does it feel good to be warmed from the inside?” He stroked his hand lightly across Jack's stomach as he spoke, pressing lightly on the last sentence.

Jack choked on a gasp, his body demanding rid of the water now now _now_ , the doctor's hand adding to his humiliation.

“Go...go to _hell_ , you sick fuck,” he managed to gasp out. The doctor clucked, shaking a disapproving finger.

“Language,” he chided. “Just for that...” he picked up a timer from the table, setting it carefully. “I'll let you know when you'll be released. There will be consequences for any accidents.”

Jack had to fight his body's natural chill, knowing he'd be in even more trouble if the water froze while inside him. He had no idea how much time was passing, but he wasn't sure he could stand it. His body wanted the water out _now_ , and he gritted his teeth against the pressure.

Please, let that timer go off soon! It was starting to hurt!

 

By the time the timer went off he was panting for breath, struggling to breathe, the rest of the humiliation happening through a film, feeling the plug come out and everything released with desperate thankfulness that it was out, only barely understanding his words as the doctor muttered over how the water came out as clean as it had entered.

Spirit, remember? Jack wanted to snark, but he hadn't the breath for it. He barely ever ate after all, and spirit bodies worked differently from human in some major ways – like the gathering of energy and disposal of waste. He gasped for breath, feeling nauseated and frosting the chair faintly with each gasp of air.

If only they'd turn down the damn heat down! He had to get out of here before they tried something else! Biting back more tears as a few slipped down his cheeks from sheer rage and humiliation, he gave the clamps another desperate tug as the doctor fussed. 

Please, please let someone have noticed he was missing!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I warned for this in the tags, I hope that was enough. I know it really isn't some folks' cup of tea, and I'm not sure where it came from, but Jack certainly didn't enjoy it.
> 
> I had to improvise some with the wingdings, but it was worth it. If the first few are hard to see, they're a tooth, present, easter egg, and baby tooth.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-con touching this chapter! Skip to the second half if you don't want to read it.

The doctor turned away, making more notes. He turned back, eying Jack's panting form.

“If you promise to behave, then when this test is done, we might turn the heat down a little. Wouldn't do to have you get sick and stop producing tears for us, after all.”

Jack wanted to growl, pride demanding that he resist to the end, while survival instincts screamed to go along with it, fake compliance until he could escape. He compromised with an icy stare.

The doctor shrugged, seemingly indifferent, as he picked up something from the table just out of Jack's sight. Jack bit back a cry as something new was pressed inside of him, slim enough not to hurt but bigger than anything he'd dared try before, too big to just ignore.

It curved and pressed against something deep inside that sent shivers down Jack's legs and spine, though he tried to ignore it and refused to show that it did. 

“Damn...pervert...” he ground out, gasping as the thing inside him started to vibrate, pressed up against that spot that forced his eyes closed as he gritted his teeth against the sensations it caused.

The doctor didn't respond, instead wrapping a gloved and lubricated hand around Jack's cock, stroking him to hardness despite Jack's fight against the physical sensations hand and toy were causing.

Tears slipped free, rage and violation warring in Jack as he was touched in ways he most definitely did not want. He wasn't a total virgin, had messed around some before, but it had all been consented to, and it had never gone this far. This was almost worse than the boot!

He held out as long as he could, but he was unused to all the stimulation, vibrations and determined hand working against him, so despite his best efforts to ignore both Jack came, jerking against the clamps, pain shooting through his limbs from his abused wrists and ankles. 

The doctor ran his finger through the cum on Jack's heaving stomach, looking at it closely. “Cold,” he commented, “though I should have expected that. Otherwise, it looks fairly normal. How disappointing.”

If he hadn't still been trying to get his breath back, Jack would have had words to say about that. He was starting to believe the doctor was enjoying this.

Kneeling, the doctor collected the tears Jack hadn't been able to hold back, setting them aside carefully. He turned back to Jack, and the grin on his face made Jack shrink back against the table he was bound to. “It looks like your tears are all we want, then, Jack Frost. Now, how to convince you to give us what we want...”

 

Sandy hovered over Burgess, looking over the town carefully. Burgess was Jack's, in a way, and he still hoped to find some hint of Jack there.

But there was no sign of Jack's presence that he could see. No magic, no snow, no frosted leaves, no trail of mayhem and mischief...with a sigh, he began to move on when a sign in Sophie's window made him pause. _SANDMAN PLEASE STOP HERE_ it said in large, crayoned letters.

Curious, hopeful, and confused, Sandy floated down to Sophie's window, easing inside. The girl in question was sitting up in bed, hugging her knees to her chest and staring at something on her desk. She perked up as Sandy floated in, almost bouncing with relief.

Sandy gave her a little wave before pointing at the sign. Really, he was amazed Sophie and Jamie could still see them, what with him being technically a full blown adult and she so close to it.

“We were hoping you'd come,” Jamie said from his spot perched on his little sister's desk. The little boy had certainly grown, some small part of Sandy noticed before all thoughts of the twosome were blown from his head.

Jack's staff was sitting on Sophie's desk, bare of the frost that adorned it in Jack's hands, looking oddly stark and vulnerable without it. Jamie nodded when he saw Sandy had seen it, carefully picking it up and holding it out to Sandy.

“Pitch was hanging out in the woods near the house,” Sophie said as Sandy looked over the staff. “We were gonna chase him away, but he tossed us this and laughed, said he had no idea where Jack was but he may as well get something out of finding the staff and then just disappeared.”

“He's missing, isn't he?” Jamie said, still holding the staff gently, thumb running over the knots in the wood. “He'd never leave this behind.” Sandy nodded, and Jamie took a deep breath, obviously keeping himself from clutching the staff close through willpower alone. “You'd better take this to North and keep it safe, our parents are already wondering about it. We're just lucky I was home on break, they think Sophie and I are just doing some silly brother-sister stuff that needed it.”

Sandy nodded his thanks, finally accepting the staff. It felt wrong to his hands, coming to him from someone other than Jack, like he was holding part of his friend's very soul without his permission. “Find him quick, okay? And...let us know when you find him? At least that he's all right?” Jamie asked, and Sophie nodded, both looking up at Sandy with pleading in their eyes.

Sandy flashed a thumbs up with his sand, smiling sadly, not daring to take a hand off the staff. It wasn't much, but it meant Jack really was missing, not just off on some prank.

Sometimes he hated being right.

He slipped back out the window and hesitated. He needed to get the staff to the Pole to keep it safe, but first...

 

Gold sand edged its way into the darkness, casting a glow to protect itself as is sank deeper into the shadows.

Pitch scowled at it on general principal.

“Yes, Sanderson, because you of all the Guardians would attempt to attack me while I'm down,” Pitch growled, slumping back onto his shadow formed divan. “Spare me the dramatics. Why are you bothering me, little man?”

He could feel Sandy's eye roll through the sand. Despite that, the answering image was bluntly to the point. 

“Why assume I know anything about where the little troublemaker is? And stop with the charades, we both know I can understand you without the silly little sand pictures.”

What followed would have been incomprehensible to anyone other than Pitch. 

“You give children dreams with that sand? Amazing they're as saccharine as they are if that's what you use. As for the staff...” Pitch flopped back over the back of his divan, glaring – and not sulking, thank you – at the sand. “If I had the frost brat, do you really think I wouldn't milk it for all it's worth, Sanderson?”

He waved a languid hand through the scolding thread of dream sand. “Whatever, Sanderson. No, I'm not growing soft,” he added, glaring with bared teeth at the suddenly amused wisp of dreamweaver. “I'm feeding off your fear and your ridiculously noble friends, of course.” He settled back against his divan, crossing his arms irratibly. “Now get that sand out of my face before I corrupt it.”

Despite Sandy's worry, there was the impression of laughter as the dreamsand retreated, and Pitch ground his teeth and only just resisted sending a Nightmare after the dreamweaver.

It would be a waste of a perfectly good Nightmare, that's the only reason.

 

North was pacing, unable to sit still for more than a moment. Yes, Jack had gone missing before, but...just as Sandy had, he was getting a feeling that something very, very wrong had happened.

It made him want to grab his sabers and run headlong to the sleigh, to find Jack and save him, to go and save his _son_. Only Jack wasn't his son, not really, and if he was missing on purpose then it was only going to upset him that North had acted like his father, right?

North sighed, turning away from the fire again to come face-to-face with a sympathetic Sandy. Sandy took a deep breath before holding up Jack's staff, offering it to North with a grimace.

Hands shaking, North took the staff from Sandy. It was heavier than he'd expected with the way Jack so casually handled it, and he clutched it close to his chest.

“Where...?” Sandy flashed images at him, letting him know how he'd come by the staff. He added that he was sure Pitch had nothing to do with it besides finding the staff, as much as he'd like to say it was Pitch. North had to agree when Sandy spelled out his logic – how he'd bluntly asked Pitch, and how he would have been much more smug if he'd known where Jack was, or gloating if he had Jack, using it against the Guardians rather than just tossing it at Sophie and Jamie. Otherwise...he couldn't come up with anything from the staff – except that Jack would never just leave it laying about for Pitch to find, obviously.

“Nothing at all?” North asked, collapsing into a chair. Sandy shook his head sadly, sitting in his own chair, deliberately trying not to look at Jack's. North had made each of them a special chair now that they were trying so hard to visit more often, and right now the sight of Jack's icy chair was almost physically painful.

After a moment, North carefully laid Jack's staff in his chair for safekeeping.

Tooth was the next to arrive, the few fairies who were accompanying her letting them know of their failure to find Jack before their mother could say anything, too depressed to possibly have any good news.

She slid gracefully into her chair, a move that said better than any words how worried she was – she always kept on the move during their meetings, hovering rather than sitting.

“My girls can't find a thing,” she said, wringing her hands. “His trail just stops outside Burgess. We haven't been able to find out what happened at all.”

She was distracted by Phil coming in, directing several other yetis to set some extra chairs in the room, babbling at North before hurrying back out of the room.

“...Bunny has brought Mother Nature with him,” North said with some surprise. He rose, the other two Guardians following him. Technically, they were equal powers, and neither Guardians or Mother Nature had to give way to the other. In practical terms, it was best if both Mother Nature and Guardians were very, very polite to each other.

She entered just ahead of Bunny, the pooka showing her the way. The other Guardians exchanged polite nods with her before she sat gracefully in the seat Bunny pulled forward for her.

“I will not waste time with pleasantries,” she said, brushing aside the usual small talk and formalities they used to keep things even between all of them. “Bunnymund came seeking information of Jack Frost's whereabouts. Usually I could tell you where he is in general terms, as he manipulates nature, but when he is not out of doors then he is lost to me. It is the price of his being moon-touched rather than one of my seasonals – more power, but not one of mine to sense at will or claim. The seasons are turning, and he should be out and about starting autumn. The fact that he is not is...troubling, to say the least.”

She paused as North groaned, slumping back in his chair. “I am sorry I could not bring you better news,” she said apologetically. “I am sure his going missing is affecting you most of all.”

North muttered, asking why everyone assumed Jack was his son. Mother Nature smiled, serenely.

“If you did not act like his father, and he like your son, then perhaps the other spirits would not assume it to be so,” she said simply, stating what the others had resisted putting bluntly in front of North. “But that is not of this moment. Finding him is. I have come with Bunnymund to offer my assistance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I get the feeling I sort of weirded out most of you last chapter. I think I'll go add a warning to the beginning notes for that chapter - should have done so before. Sorry about that. 
> 
> Surprise, it's Mother Nature, come to help search! Neutral characters are interesting, to say the least. At least it's an offer of help, right? Right?
> 
> Also - Sulky, drama king Pitch is my favorite Pitch.


	12. Chapter 12

Mother Nature's declaration shocked the Guardians into silence, openly staring at her, so silent the rustle of Sandy's sand forming an exclamation point over his head was loud as a shout. She looked back evenly, face utterly serene but for the faintly amused smile gracing her face.

“...no offense meant, but while we want Jack back as soon as possible, you've always stayed neutral before. Why are you offering to help us now?” Tooth asked, wings fluttering in agitation but otherwise attempting to control her reactions.

Mother Nature gave a graceful sweep of her hand as she spoke. “I am neutral, true, but I prefer balance in all things. Should Jack Frost continue to remain missing, the seasons could be unbalanced, as he has far more influence over the autumn and winter than even he realizes. In a way, he _is_ both Autumn and Winter now. He is certainly the most powerful winter spirit alive. His influence keeps the more bloodthirsty spirits associated with those seasons in check without his conscious interference. He controls the winter sprites and has influence over the autumn sprites, and trust me when I say that that is much more of an important job than he realizes. Consider that my personal, vested interest. If we don't find Frost, I'll have to deal with those sprites, and you with the spirits.”

The Guardians blinked at her in silent shock for a few moments before Bunny shrugged. “Fair enough,” he said. “I'll take it.”

“As Bunny says, we are grateful for any help that will bring Jack back to us,” North said, rising from his chair to pace again. “We know he isn't doing this as prank – Sandy has brought us his staff, and he never lets it from his sight. You are sure you can feel nothing? We had hoped that maybe...”

“I admit I have not spent as much time in his company as I likely should have,” Mother Nature admitted, “but for a time I believed him fully one of Tsar Lunar's spirits. It was only later I discovered his dual nature as elemental and moon-touched. As he works with weather, I should be able to sense him if he were doing anything with it, but there is nothing.”

“Then question is, where do we begin to look?” North groaned. He closed his eyes and concentrated. He'd led them into battle before, under circumstances that were much more dire than these, with clearer mind and lighter heart. His mind kept insisting on giving him images of Jack scared and in pain, desperate for them to find him as they sat here talking, instead of the plans he needed to be creating.

“The sprites are not very intelligent,” Mother Nature said, cutting into North's thoughts, “but when they are given a clear task, with simple instructions – preferably in words of only one syllable – then they are single minded about completing that task.” She stood, hair flowing about her form in a non-existent wind. “I shall go and set them on the task of searching for Jack Frost.” She began toward the door, pausing just inside it with her hand on the frame. “A warning – sprites cannot keep a secret to save their lives. Should any other spirit ask what they are searching for, they will tell them. Will that be an issue?”

“No,” Tooth answered before the others could. “I don't know how many spirits still hate Jack,” with a guilty and angry look to the others, that anyone could still hate their Jack, despite his proving that the rumors about his selfishness and bad behavior were exaggerated accounts, honest actions, misunderstandings, or innocent mischief, “but some spirits still might care enough to help with the search, if they know we need help. I hope.”

The other Guardians winced and Mother Nature frowned with sympathy. The children weren't the only ones they had neglected – they had all let friendships lapse as they withdrew into their duties. With Jack's influence, they'd all been working on mending them...but would it be enough?

 

Jack came to with a groan, shaking his head to try and clear it and force aside the headache and grogginess. While he could understand why they would drug him into unconsciousness before trying to move him, it didn't mean he had to accept it or be happy about it.

Growling, he pulled on the latest bindings as he tried to take in his new position, testing for any weakness he could use to get out of here.

He was bent over a padded bench, arms chained to the legs on one side, legs spread and chained to the legs of the other side. There was what felt like a leather strap over his back, tying him down to the table even tighter.

The bindings were so tight he couldn't even struggle, though he tried, fighting against them until he had to slump against the bench, panting.

It was at that point he noticed the padded box laid on the floor under his head, just where tears would fall if he started to cry. Jack was tempted to spit in it for a second, gritting his teeth against embarrassment and rage.

He let the rage take over, forcing down the embarrassment. The heat had been turned down, so although it was still far too hot in here, it wasn't suffocatingly hot anymore. 

Still, Jack did his best to conserve his frost rather than letting it coat his skin as he usually did when he was hot. If they were going to keep it this hot, then any chance he had to use his ice would be brief, and he had to make it count.

The box was ironic, in a way...there was a whole box of tears back in his den, hundreds of them locked away where no one could find them. If he'd let the tears fall where they would...would this have still happened? Maybe if he'd let them fall, his tears would have been commonplace enough that no one would pay for them.

...or maybe he would have been found faster, sought out for them. It was so frustrating to not know, to wonder and panic and hear the 'what if's ringing through his head.

Footsteps sounded from behind him, jolting him from his downward spiral, and Jack twisted to growl at the doctor standing behind him. There was a tapping noise, and just barely Jack could see the doctor tapping a long, slender cane against his palm.

“You know, things would be much easier if you would agree to, I don't know, watch sad movies and give us the tears afterward,” the doctor said, amusement lacing his voice.

“I'm not big on movies,” Jack quipped, still twisting the bonds around his wrists as best he could. “You guys raid a sex club or something? Seriously, who _has_ all these big bad dom toys just laying around?”

“You should be grateful we have them, otherwise this would be even more unpleasant than it's going to be,” the doctor replied dryly. “Now then, since you aren't going to cooperate, we'll just have to see which method grants us the most tears.” He stepped around to the front of the bench, lifting Jack's chin with the tip of the cane. Jack snarled at him as he inspected Jack's face, smirking. “I'm rather hoping it will be the other methods. It's really a shame to hurt such a pretty boy – even if you are so much prettier when you're crying.”

Save your ice, Jack reminded himself sharply. You can't afford to try and freeze him for the perverted comments, not when it's so hot in here, no matter how much you might want to. Instead, he ground out “ _Tu es une plus grosse merde que je pensais._ ”, the French flowing out without conscious thought as it tended to when he was tired or upset.

The doctor paused before chuckling, obviously not understanding just what Jack said but understanding the tone of voice. “Just how many languages do you know, anyway?”

...it was still too damn hot in there, Jack thought, deliberately ignoring the doctor. Sooner or later he was going to break and have to ask for water, no matter how little he might trust anything they might give him. Food he craved from time to time, more often now as he began to have more believers and come more to 'life', but he needed water. He used the moisture in the air to make most of his snow, frost, and ice, but more of it came from him, and he was going to dehydrate quick in this heat.

All thoughts of water or the discomfort of his position bent over the bench were driven from his head when a swish sounded from behind him and a line of fire exploded across his ass.

He jerked against his bindings, biting back a scream. Moon above, it _hurt_! He fought against the tears as the cane fell again and again, not sure how long he could hold out. Each stroke bit, and he could feel them reverberate through his whole body with each hit. He was sure he was frosting over the bench in his pain and distress, an automatic defense he couldn't stop.

He'd lost count of how many strokes there had been when he finally broke, tears running down his face to land in the box below and screams forcing their way from his throat with each blow. There wasn't room for thought, for anything but the pain and humiliation of giving them what they wanted. 

The blows didn't stop with his tears, but continued to rain down until he lost control, sobbing as quietly as he could and wishing he was stronger, could have fought them off longer.

Finally, finally the blows stopped, though Jack couldn't stop the tears. He tried so hard never to cry, to bite back the tears whenever he was hurt, that when they broke free like this rather than a few leaking past his defenses it was hard to make them stop.

He felt a hand on his back, stroking, and a small part of him wanted to make a snarky comment about trying to comfort someone they _wanted_ to cry, but he was too busy trying to catch his breath and stop the last of his tears to even make a single pithy comment.

“A pity you're so pale,” the doctor remarked in a dry, offhand manner. “You're already marking up with a rather spectacular set of bruises.” He stepped away, and from the faint scratching noises Jack could tell he was writing down notes over what had just happened. 

He let his head hang limply over the box they had left for the tears, staring down into it dully. He couldn't have told how many tears he had shed though exhaustion-fogged eyes, unable to focus on the tiny tears. 

He had to bite back more at a sudden, desperate wish rose in his chest. He...he wanted the Guardians. He wanted...he wanted his family, he wanted _North_ , wanted him to come find him, hurry, please, North, hurry and find him! 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vous êtes plus d'un morceau de merde que j'ai jamais pensé = You are more of a piece of shit than I ever thought  
> Edit note - Swapped out the above French for the suggested Tu es une plus grosse merde que je pensais. Same meaning, just much less formal and more insulting.  
> Two reasons for having Jack speak French – 1) he's been traveling the world for 300 years. Even with a 'job' (which I put in quotes since he's known for saying “no rules, no responsibilities”), that's a lot of time to get bored and do things, like maybe learn languages. 2) It's possible his parents could have been French fur traders or German immigrants. Considering where Burgess looks to be located on the globe, it's around the western Pennsylvania where we had lots of both, plus Quakers. 3) French was the lingua franca of the period Jack lived in. So yeah. Lots of explanation for one insult.


	13. Chapter 13

Mother Nature was right – the winter sprites were about as intelligent as a pack of concussed ducklings. Still, they were thorough once they were set on a task, and North was fairly sure they had searched every inch of Antarctica, Russia, Greenland, the North Pole, and every other vaguely chilly area of the earth they had sensed. 

They had searched under avalanches, in ice crevasses, inside and outside icebergs, every inch of cold ground, and still no hint of Jack was to be found. 

They even searched in Pitch's lair, because it was chilly and dark rather than because they suspected him of making off with Jack and holding him captive. As they were too focused on their single minded task to be afraid, there had been brooms and inventive swearing involved in their removal. Pitch could only be grateful no one had been there to witness the fiasco.

The sprites being out in full force had not gone unnoticed. Several of the bolder spirits came to Mother Nature, asking why the winter sprites were scouring the earth all out of their season. She had no reason to hide what she was doing, though she did stress that they were looking for Jack out of concern rather than because he was in trouble, that he had disappeared and that she, along with the Guardians, were worried for his safety.

The word began to spread among the spirits of the earth, the braver ones making the journey to North's workshop to verify the rumors of Jack's disappearance that her words had fanned into flames.

Most simply wondered, since spirits didn't just _disappear._ A few malicious spirits started whispering that Jack had run off when the stress of being a Guardian grew to be too much, that he was just goofing off somewhere and making them worry for the fun of it, that it was all a prank – and so the others went to ask the one that the other rumors named Jack's father to find the truth.

Although North didn't deny being Jack's father, he could at least lay to rest the rumors that Jack had run off, forcefully shooting down the negative rumors about Jack's disappearance, and if he was unsure what to make of the sympathy and offers of help, he still accepted them gratefully. 

If there was one thing the whole Easter of '12 disaster had shown the Guardians as a whole, it was to stop ignoring the 'lesser' spirits, who could change the course of the tide at times and they had neglected so badly. It they wanted to offer help now, then the Guardians were going to accept it and be grateful.

There was one small, good thing coming out of the whole disaster, as stories began being passed around alongside the rumors. Many were small, little stories that they hadn't felt worth sharing before – Jack helping to stop a fire with his snow despite the danger to himself and lack of thanks, using his snow and frost to lead children home who'd gotten lost, pranks and mischief, help and laughter from the spirit that everyone had dismissed as a troublemaker at best, and as a mask for a vicious winter spirit at worst.

The stories made North swell with pride, hearing the others finally begin to admit that Jack was a good spirit, a spirit worthy to be a Guardian. They'd all been blind before Manny had made them look at Jack, forced them to see the incredible spirit that hid behind that careless facade – and none more than the Guardians. 

The Moon only knew he was as worried over Jack as if he _had_ been his son. For once he blessed the rumor network of the spirit world, that let news travel so quickly, rather than cursing it and its tendency to blow things out of proportion.

So maybe Jack wasn't actually his, but he wanted everyone else as frantic as he was. The other tricksters that Jack played with, Raven and Loki, Puck and Spider in particular, were scouring the earth almost as hard as Bunny, Sandy, and Tooth were.

If North was beginning to wish he was Jack's father, it seemed to him like Bunny was acting like Jack's desperate husband, refusing rest as he searched more desperately by the hour. He couldn't find Jack's scent anywhere, and he was almost as frantic as North.

Despite all of North's jokes about how jumpy rabbits were, no one could out panic the Cossack when it came to Jack.

As the hours passed with no sign of Jack – Jack, who always sought company, who was usually fairly easy to find, who made blizzards when he truly didn't want found while the sky remained free of snow – dark rumors began to spread (maybe he's hiding on purpose to create a new ice age, maybe it's some kind of perverted test, maybe he's hurt somewhere), and though nearly all the spirits could scoff at those rumors, openly mocking the idea that Jack would cause all this for some prank or something darker, they all began to worry Jack wasn't hiding at all – but that someone, or something, was hiding him.

But who...or what...would want to take Jack? Or be powerful enough to hold a trickster like him?

 

Jack's arms were screaming at him, begging for rest.

He'd woken up as they were pulled over his head, lined metal cuffs tight around his wrists and connected to a short chain strung through a ring, gloves over his hands making sure he couldn't feel anything but that ring in his hands as he gripped it, holding himself up desperately.

There were modified goggles strapped tight over his eyes, keeping everything in darkness, and vaguely he could feel the straps for them going over and around his head, keeping them firmly in place. They'd forced a ball gag into his mouth as he'd been waking up, and he dug his teeth into the rubber to bite back desperate noises and try to ground himself.

His ankles were bound to the leather horse he was straddling, knees clenched tight to the leather in a frantic attempt at holding himself off it, and each time his arms started to give out, the vibrating dildo under him was forced farther into his body. The only thing keeping it out of him was his desperate grip on that ring, his shaking arms struggling to hold his body up for just a little longer.

There was nothing but the darkness, he couldn't hear anything but the white noise from the headphones over his ears, and he was growing panicked. He needed to see, to hear, _something, anything_ , please, _please..._

Randomly the chain on the ring holding up his arms would be raised or lowered, stretching his body upwards with only the cuffs to hold him up should his arms give out, the bindings on his ankles giving him nothing to brace himself on when it was raised, forcing him farther onto the dildo when it was lowered, sometimes in a quick, unpredictable drop, sometimes by slow, cruel inches. 

At random intervals they would strike him, a line of fire across his back, cane or whip or what he had no idea what it was beyond it _hurt_ , so much more intense now that he couldn't see, couldn't hear anything to know when brace himself, had no idea when or where it was coming and had only sensation left to him, and he could vaguely feel blood dripping down his back from earlier strikes. 

He was shaking, trembling all over, tension and fear and pain and unwanted pleasure when the vibrator pressed inside him every time his arms faltered, and he was losing his mind.

He had no idea how long he'd been trapped like this, blind and deaf and mute. He screamed as the chain suddenly dropped, unable to anticipate it and falling hard onto the vibrator, its sudden intrusion and vibration stronger than ever when it came without warning after so long with no sensation at all. It was a blunt, solid, unwanted invader and there was _nothing he could do about it_.

He couldn't fly like this, without the Wind, without his staff, too exhausted to fly without their aid and hold himself up, raise himself off and get it out get it out _get it out_.

He was crying, he knew he was, but he couldn't find the shame in the mash of emotions. It was too much, just too much. If it weren't for the gag he would have been ready to beg for them to let him go, anything, just please _stop_.

The chain pulled his arms upward again, lifting him off the dildo and he fought not to scream. He couldn't hold himself up anymore, his arms pushed past their limits, and was forced to just hang limply as he was pulled upwards.

There was light pressure on the top of the goggles they were tilted just enough to retrieve the tears he'd shed even as more slipped free. A hand cupped his cheek, a thumb running along the strap holding the gag tight in his mouth.

Abruptly the headphones were taken away and Jack froze, the sudden intrusion of sound deafeningly loud. The gag was loosened and Jack gasped for breath as it dropped away, sobbing for air.

“This would be so much easier if you would just work with us, Frost,” the doctor's voice said. “But you're very pretty like this, so I suppose it all evens out.” He ran a possessive hand through Jack's hair, cupping his chin to tilt his head. “And just think, I have all the time in the world to see just how many ways I can make you cry.”

Something in Jack broke. “They're going to come! They will! My family _will_ find me,” he gasped before he could stop himself, “and when they do they'll make you _sorry!_ ” Not his best threat, and the gasping for breath didn't help, but he couldn't stop himself from saying it, if only to convince himself it was true.

“...family?” the doctor said, surprise and confusion coloring his tone. Jack gasped as his head was yanked back by his hair, hissing in pain at the merciless grip shooting more pain through his body. “More like you? _Start talking,_ Frost. Who?”

The avarice in the doctor's voice forced Jack's silence, even if worry for the safety of the others hadn't. Hands pressed him harder onto the horse now, the dildo forced deep within his body, vibrating against that spot inside him that whited out his vision, his arms pulled tight and held above his head and tears trickling down his face as he gritted his teeth.

He may not have been able to stop the tears, but he _would not_ betray the others, no matter what they did to him!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...this is the life you see, the devil tips his hat to me...
> 
> I guess I really am evil, since this was my favorite torture scene to write so far. Poor Jack...


	14. Chapter 14

“...and that's our progress so far,” Doctor Shuu finished his report, gesturing back to where Frost was strapped down on the gurney, having finally passed out after refusing to speak despite their renewed efforts. 

The spirit was soaked, hair dripping and drops falling slowly to the floor, the frost that had coated his body before they'd started using the horse having finally melted, stubbornly clinging to the slender body. Shuu's assistant was directing a mystified janitor in mopping up the water, and it was amusing them both how the man muttered to himself over the mysterious water, obviously unable to see Frost on the gurney right in front of him.

The janitor, well used to his employers doing things that he had no business listening to, finished his mopping and left the room, still muttering about freak water. Still, Shuu waited for him to leave before he continued.

“We're going to give him some intravenous fluids now, just in case he can be dehydrated and stop producing tears. Even if this 'family' he mentioned cannot produce anything useful to us, they may be useful in making him produce tears without the need for all these different methods. They may not be as efficient, but it would be some variety – might even make him agree to something more mundane, so we don't have to worry about harming him so much he can't produce any more.”

“It would be useful,” Mr. Ruthvan agreed, pacing. He hated pacing, but it helped him think. “But who would be his family? The what, Snow Queen? General Winter? I mean, the stories never talk about him having family. The researchers had trouble finding any stories about him at all. I deal in the obscure and hard to find, not in fairy tales. Who the hell could he have been talking about?”

“If I may suggest, sir...” Doctor Shuu said, “if Jack Frost exists, then perhaps so do some of the other phenomenon we hear about when young but dismiss as we grow older?”

When Mr. Ruthvan only stared at him blankly, Dr. Shuu let out a little huff of impatience. “The Easter Bunny? Tooth Fairy? Santa? Do any of those ring a bell, sir?”

“But they don't...” he trailed off, looking over at Jack's pale, unconscious body. “Or maybe they do.”

“I would suggest looking for the fairy, sir. The tooth one. The others have only certain days when they may emerge, but the tooth fairy has to be out and about every night.”

The grin on Mr. Ruthvan's face had chilled the blood of lesser men before. “I knew there were reasons I pay you as much as you ask.”

“Thank you, sir. We'll give Frost a little time to recover before we convince him to produce more tears. We need to keep from saturating the market, after all.”

“Very good. With any luck we'll have a fairy for you to play with later,” Ruthvan replied. The men shared grins before Mr. Ruthvan left the lab and Dr. Shuu turned back to the captive legend on the gurney.

 

It was hard, almost impossible, to keep her mind on her job. It shamed Baby Tooth, but her mother and sisters understood. Baby Tooth had always been different, even before Jack had named her and made her different from her sisters. Even now, after Jack had helped them choose names for themselves, Baby Tooth clung to the first name Jack had given her. Not that she didn't love the name Jack had chosen for her the second time, but the first tied her to both him and mother.

Mother had been hinting that, by naming her, Jack may have accidentally made her his instead of mother's. She thought Baby Tooth might have gotten a little bigger, her feathers a little more blue, but it was hard to tell. They were just going to have to wait and see. 

At the moment, Baby Tooth wished it were true, since then _maybe_ she would have had a tie to Jack, and they would have found Jack by now! Until then, though, she continued to be her mother's helper, which today meant going after her fair share of the teeth.

She was so distracted it took her precious seconds to hear her sister's desperate squeaking. Only just remembering to exchange tooth for coin, shoving the tooth in her pouch as she flew, she darted through the child's window into the street.

Down the street, two men had a small cage, and Baby Tooth froze in terror and rage as she saw them forcing one of her sisters into the tiny trap. 

No, no, you can't freeze, she yelled at herself. Jack wouldn't freeze, he'd do something – just like when they faced Pitch down in Antarctica!

She darted forward, hiding in the tree next to where the men were holding up the tiny cage, inspecting her sister. They were too big for her to attack head on, so...she needed information. Please be talkative, she begged silently.

“This is the tooth fairy?” one of them said, and Baby Tooth sent up grateful thanks. “I thought she'd be...I dunno, bigger.”

“Just be grateful, she'll be easier to transport this way,” the other man said. “Make sure you keep a good hold on that cage, we're trusting to luck that that it'll hold her.”

Baby Tooth sent out a silent call for her other sisters in the area. These men were going _down_. She followed, flitting from tree to sign, sign to bench, keeping under cover as she followed them to their car.

“You let her go, and the boss'll have our hides,” the first man was saying. “We got lucky with that Frost kid, and you know it.”

Baby almost fell out of the sky in shock. Frost kid? Frost kid! These men...these adults...they'd seen Jack? Suddenly determined to not just free her sister, but to follow them, she flitted out from hiding just long enough that Mary Ellen, in the cage, could see her. 

She held her finger in front of her lips, cautioning Mary Ellen to silence. Behind her came a small batch of their sisters, and she heard them gasping as they caught sight of Mary Ellen.

“They know where Jack is,” Baby Tooth said in the peculiar combination of chirps and thought that was the language of her family, cutting her sister's worried cries short. “We have to follow them and free Mary Ellen. Devika, take Opal and warn the others about what's going on. Rachita, Faiza, Boadicea, you're with me.” 

Her sisters nodded, easily following Baby Tooth's lead. Devika and Opal sped off, taking the teeth their sisters passed to them. The other three followed Baby Tooth as she flew to the car, darting in through the back window to hide behind the front seat.

Mary Ellen was in the front seat between the two men, and the four fairies in the back fretted as the car drove on. They needed the men to get as close as they could to wherever they were holding Jack, since this was their first and only lead, but they needed Mary Ellen out of that cage _now_!

They drew to a stop after what felt like hours of driving, and Baby Tooth peeked out the window to see dawn approaching over a huge mansion, surrounded by high walls and iron gates, giving her the impression more of a prison than a palace.

She ducked down back under the window and whispered her plan to her sisters. They nodded as one, slipping out the back window to perch on the roof.

The men pulled the car around the back of the mansion, parking it in a secluded spot hidden by trees and shrubbery. The doors of the car finally opened and the men got out, one holding the cage trapping Mary Ellen carefully in both hands.

Wishing briefly she had more of her sisters with her, Baby Tooth shot into the air, letting out an ear-piercing battle cry. The men jumped and spun toward the car even as they were dive bombed by tooth fairies, their tiny beaks sharp as needles as they sliced the men's hands and faces open.

“What the hell!” the first cried, the other swinging his hands – including the one holding Mary Ellen – up to cover his face.

“It's a swarm!” he screamed, stumbling back into the car, impacting with a solid thud against its side.

The first man started chasing the free fairies, swatting desperately as they continued their attack while trying to grab one. The fairies were too fast for him, dodging his clumsy arms with ease, opening more razor thin wounds over his swatting hands in retaliation. 

His partner tossed Mary Ellen back in the car, slamming the door and locking it before joining his partner at swatting and grasping for the baby teeth. Baby Tooth flew in the window, mentally wondering at the men and their blindness. Didn't they _see_ Mary Ellen fly through the child's window earlier, to know a locked door meant nothing to them? It was the iron of her cage that was keeping her captive, not the fact that she was locked up.

Even Pitch had known to use iron cages, for pity's sake.

The lock gave her trouble, and she grew more frantic as the seconds ticked by, her arm deep in its mechanism as she fought to work it open. No matter how fast they were, her sisters could only distract those men for so long without risking getting caught!

Finally the lock gave and Mary Ellen burst out of the cage, both fairies shooting out the windshield. Baby Tooth gave another whistle and her sisters shot to the skies, out of the reach of the two men. 

Baby Tooth slowed to a stop when the men were just specks below them and her sisters crowded around her, chirping in distress, asking why she'd stopped.

She gave Mary Ellen a little push to Rachita, who took her sister's hand – the closest they could come to a proper hug while airborne. “Get Mama,” Baby Tooth urged, “tell her what happened and watch Mary Ellen. They said they had Jack, I have to go look.”

Her sisters exchanged looks, hesitant to leave. 

“We wait for you,” Mary Ellen spoke up, clenching her free hand. “It's not safe to go alone.”

Baby Tooth hesitated but, seeing the stubborn looks on her sister's faces, nodded. It would be good to know someone was waiting in case something went wrong.

“Give me until noon,” she said instead of protesting. “If I'm not out by then, get Mama.”

Her sisters nodded, all of them dropping to land on the mansion's roof. With a salute that her sisters returned, Baby Tooth dropped to slip in a window. If Jack was anywhere in this house, she was going to find him or get caught trying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not posting last week - Gramma needed me at the hospital. But hey, she's getting better! :D
> 
> The name Shuu is from a rather famous Let's Play I've been obsessed with reading lately. Couldn't resist. As for the Baby Teeth – they definitely have their own language, I'm just translating it for ease of reading. Also, I've seen prompts/stories before where Jack helps name the fairies, and I love it. In my fics where Jack gave them names, Baby Tooth's second name is Rani. :) The names here were inspired by the fics I've seen with the named fairies.


	15. Chapter 15

Baby Tooth flew through the halls of the mansion cautiously, keeping an eye out for humans. If they could see her, and mentioned Jack, obviously knew about him...something was rotten here, and it wasn't garbage.

Why would they take Jack? How could they even hold him? Jack was...she could picture him, fast and strong and free, not someone that would be easily caught or held, that could be held, wild and free as the wind he rode. 

A sudden thought came to her, an image of a sparkly gem in her tiny room at the Tooth Palace. Jack...his tears...could they have found out? Could that be why...?

More frantic than ever, she shot toward the staircase, sliding down the banister towards the lower levels. The higher they were, the more likely Jack would have gotten away if he was here, so she needed to search below. If they had found out about those tears...bad enough for an adult to capture one of them, since who knew what they would try, but if they caught one of them for something like that...she had to find Jack! Now!

She had to be systematic about this, she scolded herself as she raced through hallways, checking in doors and out windows, but nothing showed this place as anything other than a perfectly normal mansion, if a bit bland, boring, and tasteless. There had to be something, those men weren't bringing Mary Ellen here for no good reason! Flying around in a panic wasn't going to help!

They couldn't have been bringing her here just to show her off, could they? That was...that was silly, and risky. Frustrated with no signs of life in the place at all, Baby Tooth darted back out a window. She was going to find the lowest level of this place and search from there.

 

An hour later, Baby was ready to punch walls, for what little good it would do. She could faintly sense another layer to this place, but she couldn't find a way in, making her question if she was just imagining it. Solid walls and floors stopped her in ways windows couldn't, and she couldn't find any way into the space she could almost _feel_ below her.

Suddenly the main doors opened, and she spotted a man in a suit coming in, dropping keys and coat as if he owned the place. In a flash she hid behind a vase and watched as he sauntered down the hallway, humming tunelessly to himself as he swung aside a painting, pressing on a spot of wall to expose a keypad. He entered a code and a bookshelf swung free of the wall with a quiet click.

He stepped into the opening and Baby Tooth darted after him, doing her best to stay out of sight. It wasn't easy, since she was so used to no one seeing her, but she stayed behind him, hovering near the ceiling. Adults didn't look up very often, if at all.

He pushed open the bottom door and it swung open silently into a basement divided into a dozen different rooms. Baby Tooth didn't take the time to look around, her attention immediately caught by one thing.

Someone was screaming – and it sounded like Jack.

But...her Jack never screamed! It had to be a mistake! That...that couldn't be Jack, her Jack!

With fear and anger churning her insides, she darted ahead, keeping close to the ceiling. The man she was following opened a door, the screaming louder before trailing off, Baby Tooth slipping into the room just in time as the door swung shut.

She was so shaken she almost forgot to seek cover, her bright colors keeping her brightly exposed against the harsh white of the room. She flailed before darting into a partially open stainless steel cupboard at the last second, leaning against the cold steel, shaking. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself and peeked out of the cupboard, wishing seconds later she hadn't.

There were three adults in the room – the man she'd followed down, another man in a white coat, and a third standing near, obviously waiting for orders from the other two.

Jack was in the center of the room, on display like he was some kind of trophy. They had him chained to some kind of A-frame, his back to the room, his wrists chained to a bar at the top, his ankles locked in some kind of stocks at the bottom, forcing his legs wide, a bar at the middle taking his weight as he sagged against it. There was blood streaking down his arms and ankles from struggling, obviously too exhausted to freeze the wounds properly.

He was breathing heavily, raggedly, hanging limply against the frame like a discarded rag doll. 

From where she was hiding, Baby Tooth could see all of Jack's back, and she had to clench her tiny fists to try and control her anger, keep herself from flying from hiding and trying to do something, anything.

His back, from shoulders to knees, was a mass of welts, thin red stripes, and bruises. Angry purple and blue patches covered the lower half of his body down to his knees, barely a square inch of white skin left, fading into the welts and thin red lines covering his back.

The humans were talking, and Baby Tooth fought down fear and nausea to try and listen. They were talking too quietly for her to hear clearly, but she could pick out the occasional word.

The man in the white coat held up something small and metallic, gesturing to an assortment of objects on the table. Baby Tooth didn't recognize them, but she didn't like the words she heard – 'nipple clamp', 'vibrator', and 'overstimulation' in particular.

She wasn't sure what they were going to do, but she started to get an idea when the man in white walked to Jack, smirking, and grabbed his hair, pulling his head back unmercifully.

Jack hissed, and the man in the white coat chuckled. “You look good like this, Frost. Like you're on display. Perhaps we should get an audience to appreciate the show?”

“I...I in...in malam...crucem...” Jack gasped out, teeth clenched and eyes screwed tight.

The doctor smirked, distracting Baby Tooth from her surprise at the Latin when he released Jack's hair and snapped one of the small metal things onto Jack's chest.

Jack jerked, hissing with pain, and Baby Tooth snapped.

She didn't stand a chance against these men – but Mama would!

Hold on Jack, she urged silently, taking off as fast as her wings could carry her, phasing through the door's window, everyone's attention too firmly on Jack to see the bright streak of color. Just hold on a little longer!

 

Her sisters started as Baby Tooth came bursting out of the mansion, tumbling in surprise from the roof as she exploded into the sky, struggling to catch up as she darted away from the mansion. They barely managed to keep pace with her once they had caught up as she drove every bit of of speed she could from her wings. 

They tried to ask her what she'd seen, what had happened, but had to give up when they had to use every bit of breath they had just to keep up with her. Keeping up with Jack had made Baby Tooth a stronger, faster flier, so they could only struggle to keep her in sight as they sped through the air, streaking across the sky.

They reached the Pole in record time, bursting into the globe room through the open skylight. Their mother was there, along with the other Guardians, arguing with a pair of spirits they didn't immediately recognize.

The baby teeth ignored them, darting through the group to cluster around their mother, chirping frantically.

One of the visiting spirits sniffed disdainfully. “Really, Queen Toothiana, you should control your little fairies better.”

Baby Tooth made a gesture toward him that was almost unforgivably rude before pushing Mary Ellen forward, demanding she tell their mother what had happened. The others dropped to the globe's controls, panting softly as they caught their breath.

Mary Ellen rushed her story, the words tumbling over each other as everyone in the room looked on, mystified. Tooth may have been the only one able to understand the baby teeth, but everyone could tell it was important as she snatched Mary Ellen from the air, checking her over for injuries and worrying over her tiny daughter.

Baby Tooth picked up where Mary Ellen left off, landing in her mother's palm next to her sister and telling her mother how she'd followed the men inside and found Jack – and just what kind of state he was in.

Though her hands never tightened on her daughters, still cradling them gently, Baby Tooth watched the fury flash in her mother's eyes with a rush of pride. So many spirits just saw the pretty feathers and cheerfulness and forgot she was a _warrior_ queen, and her fury was a thing to be feared. Mama would fix everything, Baby just knew it.

Baby Tooth finished her report, taking again to the air. It was only then that she took the time to look and see who else was at the Pole as her mother translated what Baby had told her to the rest of them.

Nightlight and Katherine stood by North's side, and if the looks in their eyes were any indication then Baby Tooth wouldn't give a quarter for those men's chances if they met either spirit. Katherine may have generally been fairly gentle, Nightlight may have been mischievous and easily underestimated, and neither may have met Jack yet, but they knew how precious the frost boy was to the Guardians – North in particular – and no one harmed family. Not even as–yet unmet family, who was already precious to them, even if he didn't know it yet.

The other two spirits who had been trying to argue with the others were already retreating. Rude they may have been, but no one wanted to be around the Guardians when they were truly angered in case that anger was directed at them in lieu of its proper target.

Baby Tooth wasn't sorry to see them go – if what they'd said as she and her sisters had arrived was any indication, they weren't being very helpful even before she got there.

“Baby Tooth,” North boomed out, and she snapped to attention. “You can lead us to where Jack is?” Baby Tooth chittered eagerly, grabbing onto his coat and tugging. He grinned, and there was nothing of cheer in it, the pure, bloodthirsty smile of a father whose son was in danger and those responsible were in his path. “Good. Katherine, Nightlight, will count on you to make preparations for hasty arrival with Jack. Tell yeti to be ready.”

Less talking more _going_ , Baby Tooth chirped, tugging on North's coat again. “Hurry, before little fairy drags me there! To the sleigh!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a request for Latin!Jack, to go with French!Jack. I'd like to think he can speak quite a few more languages, I just don't want to distract things too much with them. He's exhausted enough right now to not be paying attention to which language is coming out of his mouth.  
> I know even less Latin than I do French, so I apologize for the Google Translate. According to it, 'abi in malam rem' is how you say 'go to hell'.  
> UPDATE: redorigamicranes has let me know that the proper Latin for 'Go to Hell' is "I in malam crucem" if it's a singular person. Line has been changed for proper Latin. :D


	16. Chapter 16

North's snow globes needed a location called to them to work, and Baby Tooth wasn't able to give them the exact place the mansion had been. She had to rack her brain to remember where in general it had been located, the town they had started in the best she could do. 

She'd traveled there in a car while trying to keep from being seen, give her a break.

They burst out of the sky over the town, Baby Tooth firmly perched atop the sleigh's globe. She looked over the side, debating for a moment before nodding. Imperiously she pointed the direction, remembering clearer now that she was over the ground they had traveled earlier. North snapped the reins and the deer shot forward, clawing at the air.

The only creatures that could rival the speed of North's deer were the baby teeth and Bunny, and right now even they would have had a run for their money, as though their master's wish for speed traveled through the reins to them.

“So what's the plan?” Bunny demanded, fighting not to look over the side of the sleigh, panic for Jack overcoming his fear of the sleigh and heights.

Sandy punched his palm, his intentions clear. Baby Tooth chattered at her mother, who nodded.

“Baby says that the only way she found in big enough for us is the door the man in charge used, and it's locked with a number code. She didn't get a chance to find out the code.”

“So full frontal assault?” Bunny confirmed, grin turning feral at the confirming nod. Baby Tooth chirped, interrupting them as she pointed down at a large mansion.

The sleigh hadn't even come to a complete stop before the Guardians were flinging themselves out of it, barreling though the door that fell under North and Bunny's shoulders when they threw their combined weight at it, the wood no match for the two together, prioritizing speed over stealth.

Baby Tooth darted ahead of them, leading the way through the halls of the mansion to the bookshelf that hid the door to the basement. She pointed to it, chirping excitedly, and Bunny slid eggs out of his bandolier, giving them a careful roll and leaping away as they tapped gently against the bottom shelf. 

They exploded with a thud and the crackling of wood as the bookshelf disintegrated, all of them shielding their faces from wood shards, Baby forced to take refuge in Bunny's ruff, holding on for dear life as the shockwave rolled over them.

Behind where the bookshelf had been sat the staircase, like an open mouth in the wall, waiting for them, pastel spread around the edges from the bombs. 

They looked to each other, exchanging terse nods, no words necessary to know the plan. North drew his swords, charging the hole left by Bunny's bombs with a war cry, the others following close on his heels with cries of their own.

 

Alarms blared, screaming overhead, and the blow Jack was bracing himself for didn't fall as the doctor faltered, the flogger dropping as he stared at the flashing alarms in blank shock. 

Out in the hallway Jack could hear people running while the few assistants the doctor had dragged in and convinced into seeing Jack, to watch as they tried to force him to give them a show, force him to cry from the humiliation as well as the overstimulation, started to panic.

One hit the doorway, leaning out to see what was happening, bracing himself against the frame and yelling back into the room in panic. “We're under attack! It's...it's Santa! And a giant rabbit and giant tooth fairy and some sort of sand...aagh!” he cried as a whip of sand wrapped around his chest, dragging him out into the hallway.

“Get Frost out of here,” the doctor snapped. “We can't let them take him!”

Jack could hear North's war cries in the hallway even over the sounds of fighting raging through the halls, a surge of hope giving him strength as he struggled against the ties around his arms, twisting against the frame. “N–North...North! In here!”

Even as he shouted one of the assistants was trying to force a ball gag into his mouth, cutting off his screams as they forced the hard rubber into his mouth and fumbled with the straps. He slammed the back of his head into their face and they fell back with a cry, cradling their nose, as Jack spat out the gag.

They started shoving the frame he was still tied to towards the exit and he panicked, fighting harder and screaming as they tried to gag him again, “North...Father! Daddy! DADDY, HELP ME!”

 

At first, North wasn't sure Baby Tooth had led them to the right place, except that these adults could see them, were fighting to stop them from getting inside. He fought his way through them, trying to knock them out rather than leave wounds, until he thought he heard Jack scream his name.

Then “DADDY, HELP ME!” rang through the halls, and North's heart stopped.

With a roar he surged forward, the others coming close behind him, deaf and blind to everything else around them but Jack's screams.

Following close on Baby Tooth's tail, he burst into the room like an unstoppable fury. He could see Jack then, his little Jack, tied to a rack like a displayed trophy for all these people to see, struggling madly as they tried to gag him, blood dried all the way down his arms from abused wrists, his back and down his legs mottled and bruised and cut.

North felt more than heard Bunny, Tooth, and Sandy covering him as he charged across the room to Jack.

One of the mortals got in his way, trying to block him from Jack as he stormed across the room, grabbing onto one huge, fur clad arm. “That's ours! You can't have it!” they cried.

North saw red. 

He shook the mortal off his arm roughly, sending them flying across the room. Striding forward with another roar, he forwent his swords to pick up the men trying to pull the rack Jack was tied to from the room bodily, pitching them into the walls to follow their friend.

Those he threw did not get up again, laying on the floor unmoving.

Jack was thrashing against his bonds, blood flowing freely down his arms as he re-opened wounds in his desperate fight for freedom. 

“Jack!” North cried, bracing himself on the frame Jack was tied to, laying a hand on Jack's back and feeling his panting breath, too fast and too harsh, “You must stop struggling, you are hurting yourself! I get you free, just hold still!”

Jack obeyed, still panting for breath, skin warm under North's hand where it should have been cool to the touch, and he had to fight back panic. His _son_ was hurting, far to warm, burning up, and he had to get him out _now_.

He fought down the panic to find a way to get Jack free. The bonds holding his ankles were wood, a set of stocks attached to the bottom of the frame. Anger fueled his strength, letting North rip the stocks apart, wood screeching as metal and wood parted ways, the piece of wood flying across the room and clocking another human who was trying to interfere in the head.

Immediately Jack closed his legs, offended modesty demanding some attempt be made. “Please, get...get it out,” he whispered as North stood, so quiet North barely heard him over the sounds of the others fighting off the last few humans who were still conscious, but too afraid to come closer.

Fur brushed against North's arm, and he heard Bunny whisper lowly, “I got this, mate. Get his hands and get ready to support him, I don't like the look of his foot.”

North glanced down again and winced – Jack's left foot was swollen, and obviously hurting him as he avoided putting weight on it, drawing it up close to his other leg as if to protect it. 

He looked up and caught Jack's eyes, the shimmer of tears in them that Jack was refusing to let fall, and wrapped an arm around Jack. 

Bunny did something and Jack gave a little gasp as Bunny flung something away from them with a violent surge. Jack sagged against the frame and North's arm, letting his head fall against North's coat.

North reached up and snapped the brace at the top one-handed, the binding sliding off and away from Jack's abused wrist. He shifted his grip so Jack wouldn't have to put weight on his hurt foot as he reached for the other wrist, realizing only after Jack made a tiny whimper (and oh, how he wanted to put Jack somewhere safe and do horrible, terrible, un-Santa-like things to the ones to hurt Jack that made him make such a noise) that there was metal on Jack's chest, clamped mercilessly tight on his nipples.

The small bits of flesh were an angry red, and as soon as Jack's wrist was free North unclipped the cruel metal, Jack hissing as they came free, the clamps following the fate of the other devices of torture.

North scooped Jack up into his arms an instant later, Jack far too light and small, wrapping him in his coat as if he could protect him from the world. A look around showed that only two humans remained conscious, and even as Tooth and Sandy began to advance on them Jack shifted in North's arms.

There was a blast of ice, striking both humans before Jack went limp in North's arms. “Promised...I promised...” he whispered, looking at North, the strength of all those years defending himself alone shining through for a moment before mercifully passing out.

His head came to rest on North's shoulder, and a shudder passed through North. If this was what it was like to hold his son, to cradle and comfort him when he was hurt – it was both more wonderful and terrifying than he'd ever imagined.

He looked again at the humans that had caused Jack such pain and only Jack's cool weight in his arms prevented him from doing something he would surely regret when the anger passed.

They would return, he swore silently, when their anger had cooled and Jack awake, and then they would see.

With his arms full, he strode through the mansion as quickly as he could, careful not to jostle Jack in his rush. The sleigh gave him a moment of worry, unwilling to put Jack down so he could direct the reindeer.

A tap on his should and Bunny took Jack from his arms, the winter spirit protesting in his sleep against being taken from North until he settled against Bunny. It ripped at all their hearts, North and Bunny exchanging understanding nods as Jack settled once he got a grip on Bunny's fur, recognizing Bunny as safe in his sleep as he had North. 

Steeling himself, North snapped the reins and urged the reindeer into the portal, rushing back to the Pole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to apologize for this chapter taking an extra week. It needed a lot of editing, and after my gramma passed away early in the week I just didn't have the heart – or the time/energy – to edit it as it deserved.  
> I need practice writing fighting it's so hard...and (spoiler) it's not done yet. At least, I think so. My outline finished a bit back, so I'm flying fast and loose here. Also, from the beginning I had the image in my head of the "daddy help me" and the "that's ours, you can't have it", they were pretty much the reason I started this whole fic. He's allowed a freak out, right?
> 
> ...Santa SMASH


	17. Chapter 17

Jack didn't wake until they were back at the Pole, back in North's arms and on their way to the infirmary.

Tooth stayed behind to tell the yeti what they knew, used to giving large groups information, the only one of them besides North able to coordinate the yeti and the only way she could keep herself from hovering over Jack and getting in the way. Sandy did the same, floating off to find Katherine and Nightlight and let them know what they'd found.

Bunny couldn't have torn himself away no matter what until he'd seen Jack safe in the infirmary. They weren't mates, hadn't even done much more than flirt, but he had to be sure. He could leave him with North then, safe in his father's arms. Until then, well, he was the group's default healer. He may trust the yeti in North's infirmary, but he was there now and they weren't.

Jack clutched at North's shirt as the larger man walked, rubbing his face against the red fabric to breathe in the scent that was all North, choking back relieved sobs. Finally safe, he let himself have the luxury of just burying his face in North's chest and letting someone else take care of things for a little while for the first time in three hundred years.

North settled on the infirmary bed, not ready to put Jack down just yet – and if the grip Jack had on his shirt was any indication, Jack wasn't ready to be put down yet.

“I'm sorry,” Jack whispered into North's shirt, and two hearts broke again at the broken confession. “I'm sorry, I'm so _sorry_...”

“Jack...”

“I should've been _stronger_ , should've gotten away, but I – I _broke_ , I'm so damn weak, I'm sorry, I...”

“Have nothing to apologize for,” North cut in, holding Jack tighter. 

“We need to have a look at your foot, Snowflake,” Bunny said gently, desperate to distract Jack from the incipient downward spiral and struck with the sudden, overwhelming urge to groom Jack's hair, climb up beside North and give Jack every bit of love and comfort he had in him when Jack turned frightened, tear-bright eyes on him, barely able to keep himself from doing so. No matter how much he wanted to comfort Jack, that foot needed looking at _now_. “Unless something else is hurting worse?”

Jack shook his head mutely, turning to bury his face in North's chest with a hiss of pain as Bunny ran gentle paws over his foot. “I don't think anything's broken, but we should have the yeti do a scan to be sure,” Bunny said finally. “I'll go get them. You're safe now, Jackie,” he said softly, “we're here for you.” Giving in to at least one urge, he bumped Jack's head with his nose, giving him a gentle, reassuring nuzzle and a nod to North before loping out of the room.

“North?” Jack said quietly as they waited for Bunny to return. “I...I'm sorry I called you...I just...kinda wish...”

Gently North rubbed his cheek against Jack's hair, feeling his heart swell with joy. “The greatest gift in this world,” he said quietly, “would be to have you for a son.”

“Oh...” Jack breathed, voice breaking as he spoke. “G-good. Because...North? I...I really need my dad right now.”

He buried his face in North's chest again and neither spoke again as he rocked them both, stroking Jack's hair and back soothingly as Jack clung to him, shuddering, the soft, comforting strokes finally easing him to true, restful sleep.

 

Jack woke slowly, unwilling to open his eyes and disperse the illusion that he was safe back in the Pole, safe with North and Bunny and the others. He curled up a little, eyebrows drawing together as he felt something on his foot dragging against sheets and weighing it down, something tight wrapped around his chest and lower down, cool against his abused back.

His eyes flew open when he realized it wasn't a dream, that these _were_ the soft, deep pillows and blankets of his bed at the Pole, not a dream or hallucination. Sitting up in a flash, he groaned and thumped back into their embrace.

Bad idea, his body let him know, everything between knees and shoulders throbbing at him, his head sore from unknown days spent being forced to cry. Ow. So. Dehydration was quite possibly a thing, on top of everything else.

Cautiously he cracked his eyes open again, starting when hands came into his line of vision, offering a glass of water. His eyes followed the unknown arms up to their owner, who offered a gentle smile and tilted head.

“Hi,” she said quietly. The young woman's long brown hair swung gently as she leaned forward a touch, offering the glass encouragingly. “I'm Katherine, and the glow over there is Nightlight.” 

Jack turned his head to look at the glow he'd seen out of the corner of his eye, his mouth quirking into a smile at the happy grin and slightly shy wave the other boy gave him. He looked about Jack's height, shared his white hair and carried a staff of his own, though his armor was far to formal for Jack's taste. 

...damn, he was going to have to accept North's offer of new clothes now, wasn't he, Jack thought suddenly, the random thought flitting across his mind as he suddenly remembered his hoodie being sliced open, his pants disappearing. A quick glance down told him he was wearing blue pajamas with snowflakes over them, North's humor at work.

...dangit, he'd liked those pants, too. He'd kept them his entire life as a spirit...and in a way, they were a link to his past. Losing them hurt, just a bit.

He looked back up as Nightlight grinned again, and the glint of mischief in that smile distracted Jack from his depressing thoughts and let him they were going to get along just fine.

“I'm not sure how much North has told you about us,” Katherine said, drawing Jack's attention back to her, “but he and the others are talking to a few of your friends. They didn't want you to wake alone.”

An arm slipped around his shoulders, and when a quick glance showed sympathy and respect but no pity he let Nightlight help him sit up. It still hurt, even the light pressure of Nightlight's arm painful against his abused back, but he hid the pain the best he could, the other two not commenting on his obvious pain to his relief. He accepted the glass from Katherine, needing the water badly before he tried speaking.

“He didn't say much,” he admitted when he'd had enough water for the moment, trying not to make himself sick on it. “But he gave me the basic outline. You're Mother Goose,” pointing to Katherine and then to Nightlight as he finished, “and you're the first Guardian.”

Nightlight glowed brighter, hopping up with the aid of his staff to settle at the foot of Jack's bed, carefully clear of Jack's foot, crossing his legs and leaning against the foot board. Jack took another drink, telling his hands sternly not to shake. He'd wanted to meet Katherine and Nightlight for a while now, the few stories North had told him arousing his curiosity, but right now he wasn't sure how long he was going to be able to stay calm and, irrational as it may have been, he wanted North back.

Nightlight flickered and Jack's gaze snapped back up from where he had been staring into his water glass to meet sympathetic, understanding eyes.

A gentle hand laid on his arm, but Jack still started, and it was only quick reflexes on both their parts that kept the ice from freezing Katherine's hand. Jack winced, but Katherine just laid her hand back on his arm, making sure he saw her coming this time.

“I know we just met, but I want you to know that Nightlight and I are here for you. We'd heard stories about you from North and had wanted to meet you, just under better circumstances.”

“That's an understatement,” Bunny said from the door to Jack's room, loping over to the bed once he had their attention. “Some of your friends showed up, Snowflake, and North's offering them rooms 'till you're up to visitors. Take yer time, they'll understand.” Making sure Jack could see him coming, he gave the side of Jack's head a nuzzle even as Katherine clapped her hands over her mouth to hold back a coo at the sight. 

“We had to put a cast on your foot,” Bunny let him know when he pulled back, feeling Jack's free hand curl in his fur and shifting so Jack could get a better grip. “You had hairline fractures in a few bones in there. Ya don't have to tell any of us what happened until you're ready,” he warned when Jack shifted, projecting uncertainty, obviously expecting a demand for explanations. 

“I...I just...” Bunny shushed him, giving him another nuzzle.

“You'll tell us when yer ready,” he repeated. “I know. You're not the only one here who's had things happen that were hard to talk about after. If ya try and rush it, it'll hurt worse.”

“We'll get North and leave you alone for a bit,” Katherine offered, standing and grabbing Nightlight's staff, tugging it and therefore Nightlight off the bed. “We'll see you again soon, Jack.”

Jack nodded to them, watching them leave before he glanced at Bunny from under his lashes. “Bunny...?”

“Yeah, Jack?”

Jack shifted uncomfortably, three hundred years of independence and caring for himself, pride and a desperate desire not to appear weak fighting with a wish for comfort.

Bunny's eyes softened as Jack wavered, climbing up into the bed. He opened his arms, letting Jack fall into them without the need to ask, curling around Jack protectively. 

No one was getting near his snowflake while he was here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Jack's finally safe! But the story's nowhere near over, and we're certainly not done with those humans. But honestly, I think most of us can agree Jack's needed this for awhile.


	18. Chapter 18

They stayed wrapped together in a ball of fur and frost while the noise of the workshop rose around them, faint through the thick walls and door. After a few minutes, Bunny began to talk softly, telling Jack the story of the second fearling wars, when the fearlings came for his people.

“They came out of nowhere,” he said, stroking claws through Jack's hair, as much to calm himself as Jack, “never gave a warning, never a hint they were coming until it was too late. We Pooka, we were their main target out of all the Golden Armies, and they weren't satisfied with wiping out the warriors. During the first war, we'd had the First Light, ya see. It's...it's the first light of the universe, hope and joy an' wonder all mixed together, so bright and pure, and the fearlings couldn't stand being in it's light. Nothin' that's dark can. Still can't.”

“I couldn't do anything. I fought them an' fought them and it didn't make a damn lick of difference. Everyone I knew was dead or turned into a fearling, and everything I'd done hadn't done anything to help. It took me ages ta talk ta anyone about what happened To accept that I had done everything I could do, to stop blamin' myself for things I couldn't control. It's how I ended up on this planet, and the First Light with me.”

Jack glanced up at him when Bunny's arms tightened, gripping the fur under his hand a little tighter. “I'm the last Pooka, Jack, and I blamed myself for that for longer than you can know.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Jack asked quietly, fiddling with the fur in Bunny's ruff. Bunny nuzzled the top of his head before he replied. 

“Because you aren't alone, Snowflake. That was what happened to me, but the others...they know what it's like, too. We've all been where ya are – blaming ourselves for things we couldn't prevent, for bein' hurt and not being strong enough to stop it. We won't patronize you, or pretend like you're wrong for feeling the way ya do. When you're ready to talk about what happened, we'll be here, and we'll understand.”

“...thanks.” Jack whispered, laying his head back down on Bunny's chest.

 

Jack was still exhausted, and it hadn't taken long for him to fall asleep again, lulled by Bunny's heartbeat and heat. Bunny watched him sleep, thankful that Jack could still trust him to sleep against him like this despite everything, to let someone else touch him at all. 

He was going to have to cut back on his courting, until he was sure it wouldn't trigger something in Jack. It would hurt, but it was more important that Jack be happy. It wasn't as though he'd gotten beyond expressing interest, and he'd have to judge carefully before he started showing that again. It may help Jack to know he was still desirable – or it could frighten him away from Bunny forever and destroy their friendship.

He may not have known what exactly had happened to Jack, but he didn't need a novel when he still had that image of Jack as they'd found him in his head to know he needed to back off.

North entered, carrying Jack's staff carefully, almost reverently, and Jack shifted in his sleep, frowning as the cast kept his foot from moving properly. North and Bunny exchanged nods and North hung Jack's staff from the hook he'd carved for it beside the bed before sitting in the chair Katherine had vacated, almost sagging onto the small chair.

“His friends agree to wait?” Bunny asked, voice low to not disturb Jack's sleep.

North nodded, still watching Jack with aged, shadowed eyes. Bunny winced. It was hard on him, with the interest he had in Jack, but it had to be harder on North, with that newly admitted relationship, to see his new-found son in pain.

“I told him a little about the fearling wars, while he was awake,” Bunny said. North looked up sharply at that, and if he hadn't had his arms full of winter spirit Bunny would have shrugged. “He needs to know we've all been in this position, feelin' as helpless as he does, so he doesn't do like the rest of us did and let it fester until it burst. Seemed like he'd be more willing to talk if he knew we really did understand. Didn't tell 'im about anyone else.”

Jack stirred again, and Bunny shifted, laying him back onto the bed. It took him a minute to get Jack's hands untangled from his fur, and part of him thrilled at how tightly Jack clung to him in sleep, trusting him so implicitly even as he ached that Jack would feel insecure enough to need to cling.

...then again, the sleepy noise of complaint Jack made as the last of Bunny's fur came loose didn't sound insecure at all. Maybe he wouldn't have to wait as long as he'd thought to court...but no, he'd wait for Jack to give him the go ahead. For now...

“He needs his father more than a would-be mate right now,” he said quietly when North would have stopped him from leaving. “I'll go talk with the others, we need to plan out what else we're gonna do about those humans that took him.”

North sighed and refrained from arguing, moving his chair closer to Jack's bed as the door closed, reaching out to stroke over Jack's hair as he slept. Each time he remembered the sight of Jack's back, that thing he'd been tied to...he took a deep breath, his hand settling lightly on Jack's hair. Jack was here now, and safe, and those men were going to be punished as soon as they could all agree on what to do. 

He wished he could wrap Jack up and keep him safe from the world, even as he knew it was a ridiculous idea. Jack was too much like him – two free spirits, that couldn't be caged. To keep him caged, no matter the reason or type of cage, was to sentence him to a slow death of spirit if not of body.

Under his hand, Jack stirred, and his wandering attention snapped back to Jack.

Jack blinked up at him, still sleepy eyed, and he smiled up at North, apparently unconcerned that he'd been watching him sleep. It was shaky, but it was there. He shifted until he could sit up, North's hand falling from his hair, wincing as he jostled his foot. He stared at his hands in his lap, twisting them as he tried to think of what to say.

“Bunny...he said...” Jack paused to swallow, searching for the words. “He said you'd understand, if I told you what...what happened. That you've all...” he trailed off, looking at North out of the corner of his eye.

“We have all been hurt,” North agreed, “and needed help to heal. Is no shame in that.”

Jack was quiet at that, looking down at his hands before reaching for North, hesitantly, faltering once before balling his fist in North's shirt. North didn't need any more encouragement than that to gather Jack into his arms, cradling the slim body against his chest.

Yes, Jack was more than old enough to handle this, but he looked in dire need of cuddling and North wasn't going to deny him something so simple when they both wanted it.

“It...it's not easy,” Jack said, so softly it was barely audible, looking up at North through his bangs. 

“You blame yourself for things out of your control,” North agreed, “as if everything they did to you is your fault.” He stroked a hand over Jack's hair, still soft and cool as the snow he brought. “Even as your head knows it's not, you still cannot convince yourself. You end up blaming yourself for it happening to you, for not fighting hard enough, getting away soon enough.”

He pulled Jack a touch closer, feeling Jack – feeling his _son_ – press into his embrace. “We already wish them punished for what little we did see, worry about what happened, but we will not press, Jack.”

Jack stayed silent, and North wondered if Jack ever would be able to tell them. He'd been alone so long, kept so much to himself, that even with the trust of calling for North when in pain and afraid, he might not be able to bring himself to say the words he needed, and part of North despaired that he ever could.

Against his chest, he felt Jack take a deep breath, and his hand tightened on North's shirt. “I...I was flying over the forest outside Burgess...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...Jack's got more information now - and North's about to find out a lot more than he reckoned with. Time to place your bets on what the former King of Bandits just might do to those who hurt the Prince of Bandits. ;)


	19. Chapter 19

It was little surprise, given how often they'd fought and how intimately familiar with the taste of their fears that he was, that Pitch knew almost the instant the Guardians passed overhead with a new found Jack. Tracing their fears back to where they'd found him was even simpler. 

Pitch looked up at the mansion before him with distaste. Some humans simply had _no taste_ at all. With a disdainful sniff, he slipped into the shadows and down into the basement, following the trail of those irritating Guardians, who'd left a trail as bright to spirit eyes as neon – not counting the pure physical damage they'd left in their wake.

He glanced around the still brightly lit area, the remains of the equipment for the humans' previous activities before the Guardians had stormed in left untouched, albeit a bit scattered from their fight. 

Had none of them, mortal or Guardian, ever heard of _subtlety_? Then again, considering who he was thinking of...perhaps Sanderson, if a glowing ball of stardust could be said to be subtle. With all of them attacking this place, none of them should be surprised he found it. They should be surprised more spirits hadn't, really.

He gave another disdainful sniff at the caning bench, still bearing marks from Frost's ice. Such crude methods they used...but crude or not, they had held a spirit here, and deliberately caused said spirit pain. Not just any spirit, but one of the Guardians.

_No one_ touched the Guardians but Pitch. They may fight other dark spirits, but those spirits weren't a threat – and were easily put in their place, even if Pitch had to do it properly later.

This was not to be tolerated. The Guardians were probably thinking of some way to punish the humans responsible for this – and Pitch was starting to get more of an idea of just what they had to pay for.

Now that he was here, seeing just what they had used on Jack – it wouldn't have been obvious to humans just which had been used, but traces of Jack's magic were all over the basement, strongest on the things they had used on him, every device of torture used on the young Guardian bearing the mark of his pain and fear as clearly as even more eye-searing neon to Pitch's eyes – and Pitch's vision was starting to go red on the edges.

How dare any mere _mortal_ take a spirit and torture them this way, and why? Even when he'd been more than half-mad from the fearlings, he'd had a reason for what he'd done. Perhaps not a good reason, and one based on lies and emotion, but still.

The Guardians may be planning on punishing these humans for what they'd done, but the Guardians were weak fools. Look at himself if one needed an example...the pathetic weaklings thought him well punished just by being dragged away by his own nightmares, not even checking to be sure he was truly weakened and defeated until much later.

Fools. The fearlings and nightmares had long lost the power to truly control him, and he was their master. By the time they'd checked on him, he'd been weak but in control, enough to fake weakness he didn't have.

He heard voices approaching and grinned, a death's head grin that would have chilled the blood of any who saw it, before slipping into the shadows.

These adults might be able to see him, or they might not. For once, it didn't matter.

He didn't need to be seen for what he was about to do.

 

“...so when that didn't work, they...I couldn't get free, and everything _hurt_ , and...they got this...this thing, and...it was iron, and...my foot...”

North rubbed soothing circles on Jack's back, holding his newly adopted son close as the story poured out, grateful Jack couldn't see his face.

“It hurt so much, nothing ever _hurt_ like that before, and they wouldn't stop...”

Jack clung to North, the words tumbling over each other as he let the tears flow, quite a few soaking into North's shirt, absorbed by the thick material before they could solidify into gems. He didn't know what that would do to the fabric, but right now he couldn't care.

Part of him yelled at him to stop crying, to hide away and take care of it himself, that he was acting like a child, but the relief of just _telling someone_ who actually cared, wanted to help him, overpowered it, letting him be a mess now even if he might be embarrassed about it later. 

“...and...and I _tried_ to make him stop, I made _ice armor_ , I never tried that before, but he turned up the heat, and it...it was so hot, I couldn't...”

North had thought he'd heard before about spirits being caught by humans and used for their powers, but never before had it been for tears, never to be tortured like this just to make them cry. For sheer cruelty, perhaps, or to destroy them for being demons...and those spirits had hidden away or faded on the rare times they had been rescued.

“He...they liked it better when they...they touched me or...or used the toys on me to make me cry...and I felt so damned _weak_ but I couldn't stop them...”

North prayed that Jack wouldn't fade away after this, that they could be strong enough to help him heal from what had happened, but as more of his story poured out North wondered if _he_ was strong enough to heal from this, let alone Jack.

“I couldn't _see_ , couldn't _move_ , and...and they...it was _in me_ and they kept...they had this...this chain around my wrists...and...they...”

Jack was technically an adult, since he was over three hundred, but...he looked so young, so heartrendingly young as he clutched at his newly found father.

“They would pull on it to force me...force me onto it...and I couldn't...there was nothing but touch and it was too much, I couldn't...”

North was torn between comforting Jack and fetching his swords and finding the men who'd put Jack through so much.

“So I snapped and, and I told them my family was going to...to come for me. I didn't tell them who,” he said, looking up at North pleadingly. “It just slipped out. But...they wouldn't stop asking, and...”

“And was good thing you said,” North said firmly. “They went after little fairies. They took care of themselves,” he said quickly as Jack looked stricken, curling into himself with a little, despairing cry at the thought of those monsters going after the baby teeth. Every one of them knew how Jack felt about the baby teeth by now, the lengths he would go to to keep them safe, how he'd coddle them and play with them, gentler than they'd ever expected a fall or winter spirit could be, seen him sneaking them treats and kisses when he thought no one could see him. 

North stroked Jack's hair, tilting his head up to look North in the face. “Tooth says Baby Tooth led attack on the men who tried to take...Mary Ellen, she said it was. They followed the men to where they were holding you, used it to find you. If you hadn't said about your family, we would not have had lead to find you.”

He settled Jack back onto the bed, knowing the temper boiling inside of him started by Jack's story was close to blowing over, and he wanted to be far from Jack when that happened.

“I send baby teeth to you, they will tell you same thing. I need to go talk with friends and find men so I can rip arms off and beat them into submission with them.”

“What?! North, you can't really,” Jack blurted, subsiding as North's huge hands pushed him gently back down onto the bed.

“Just expression,” he said soothingly, despite having meant the words when he said them. It wasn't up to him to choose their punishment, his head knew that...but the others had best help him come up with something quickly before he went through with something very un-Santa-like.

“May I give broad outline? So we may know what must be done,” North asked instead, stroking a hand over snow soft hair again. Jack was silent, thinking for long enough North began to worry before nodding, hair falling to shield his eyes.

Unable to resist, North knelt and drew Jack into another hug, rubbing circles on a far too thin back. “They shall never touch you again, _moy syn, moy dragotsennyy snezhinka._ ”

 

Once he was far enough away from Jack's room, North gave in to his temper, slamming his fist into the wall hard enough he left it dented. The pain cut across his anger but did nothing to dispel it.

Jack's story may have been a bit disjointed, hard to understand at times, but there was far more of it than what he said that North understood without needing the words.

But above the knowledge of the pain and the rape they'd put Jack through, one thing kept rising to the front of his mind. 

Sensory deprivation. They used _sensory deprivation_ on an _elemental, seasonal spirit._

One who could barely stand to be _indoors_ for a full day, cut off from the wind and sky, and they'd taken everything from him for greed.

Every instinct North had long buried ever since he'd been accepted at Santoff Claussen was yelling for blood, to make them pay for what they had done to his child. 

Oddly enough, it was Jack that helped him curb the rage boiling inside that made him want to reach for his sabers. Jack looked up to him now, after three hundred years of independence and looking to no one Jack had chosen him. North had been through the loneliness of having no one, knew better than the others just what it meant to have someone suddenly there that you looked up to in that way.

No matter how satisfying it would be, he couldn't do what he was wishing and still look Jack in the eye, knowing he hadn't lived up to that belief in him.

Breathing heavily, North rested his head against the wall. He had to go tell the others what had happened to Jack, without going into the details, to spare Jack the little he could.

 

The very air was tense in the sitting room the Guardians used for their meetings, none of them quite sure what to do as they waited for North.

Bunny was pacing the far end of the room, dropped to all fours as he prowled like a caged animal. Nightlight and Katherine watched him, on edge to see the Pooka they associated with long robes and Vulcan-like control of his emotions acting so emotional, so very opposite to how he used to be, and they wondered even as they worried, both for him and the slim spirit they'd just met who'd been through so much.

Tooth was dashing off orders to her fairies, fluttering about far more than necessary as she worried. Baby Tooth was sticking close to her mother, while Mary Ellen rested uneasily on a cushion surrounded by the sisters who had helped rescue her, all of them playing with the fruit the yeti had brought them rather than eating it, keeping where their mother could see them for now.

Sandy was hovering near the ceiling, sands swirling around him in agitation. For once, the dreamweaver was ready for action, but there was no direction to take yet.

North entered the room, and it exploded into a cacophony of sound. He ignored them, slumping into his chair. Gradually the others subsided, sinking into their chairs and deliberately not looking at Jack's still unoccupied chair. 

Unconsciously they scooted their chairs closer to North, who looked older than he had ever been. He sighed, looking up at them with old, tired eyes that still snapped with anger.

“Jack told me everything,” he said bluntly. “He gave okay to give you outline, but not details. Is still ashamed he could not stop them.”

Bunny growled softly and North nodded. “At least he was willing to talk to me,” he said. 

“Should we get Jack's friends?” Tooth asked softly. “They'll want to help.”

Mary Ellen and her sisters darted up from their cushion, chirping eagerly. They'd fetch Jack's friends, they were fast, let them help!

“Very well,” North agreed. “Hurry little fairies – we should take care of this quickly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> moy syn, moy dragotsennyy snezhinka – my son, my precious snowflake  
> So...North now has the whole story, and Pitch is involving himself. Things gonna get messy.  
> Also – Jack and the baby teeth. You guys. I just...always see him as treating them extra special. It is adorable and no one can stop me.


	20. Chapter 20

The room was deathly silent as North finished his outline of Jack's story, leaving out the details Jack had told him while still giving them enough to fill in enough by themselves, if they felt the need. The others could almost hear the gaps in his story, but if they were being honest with themselves, they didn't want to know. Not yet, not until...unless...Jack wanted them to know.

It erupted into a din to challenge the workshop at its busiest seconds later, inventive cursing in otherworldly, pictogram, and dead languages filling the air along with threats and promises for what would be done to Jack's captors when they were found.

Through it all North sat silently, waiting for them to finish. “I feel same way,” he said when the din had died down. “But we must think of Jack and what he wants to happen. They could _see us_ ,” he reminded the other Guardians. “They may see all of us. Jack will never forgive himself if we are captured or hurt trying to settle score.”

“We can't just let them get away with this!” Puck exclaimed from their perch over the fireplace. Raven, Spider, and Loki voiced their agreement, glaring at the Guardians as if to challenge their declaration.

“And we will not!” North roared, the others recoiling from the force of his declaration. “But we cannot disappoint Jack!”

“So what do we do, then?” Loki asked, sprawling artistically by the other tricksters, toying with a bracer as if he were unconcerned with the answer even as the hardness to his eyes told a different story.

North stood abruptly and began pacing. “I do not know,” he admitted. “I want to rip off arms and use them to beat men into submission, but...”

Puck smirked, looking at their fellow tricksters with a gleam to their eyes that promised, not the playful mischief they enjoyed with Jack, but the evil mischief they carried out for Oberon. “We might be able to come up with a few ideas...”

“But we should wait for Jack,” Raven interrupted them. “Jack was the one hurt, he should have final say in what we do,” he said sternly. 

“Those mortals already took away his say in too much,” Anansi added, not looking from the web he was idly spinning in the corner of the fireplace, still mostly human shaped but doing it anyway, to keep himself calm. “He doesn't like people taking choices away from him. We can plan, but Jack should say what we do and not take away his choice on what he's going to do. Still, we do need to punish these mortals...”

“And I'm going to help,” Jack said flatly from the doorway, where he leaned heavily on his staff.

 

Jack had woken abruptly, still tired but better than earlier. His foot throbbed, but compared with other injuries he'd suffered before during the last three hundred years, it was bearable. At least it was being properly cared for, and he hadn't had to take care of it himself.

Despite everything that had happened over the last few days, Jack was almost grateful. Someone had found out about his tears, and the worst that could happen had. They'd tried to break him, and he hadn't broken. Come close, frighteningly close, but he didn't. Now he had a father, and he'd eventually have a boyfriend, if he and Bunny could get over this...and he was fairly sure they could. It didn't grant them forgiveness or call it anywhere close to even, but it was something.

He struggled to his feet, grabbing his staff from where it hung on the wall by the bed and leaning on it to keep weight off his foot, grateful they'd found it and taken good care of it while he'd been...gone. He'd missed it like he'd missed an extra limb, but it was better here than lost or – worse – found by those men.

He gave a quick, savage grin. He had his staff back, now all he had to do was heal up and...well, he may be of fall, but he was also of _winter_. There was a reason the winter spirits were feared by most other spirits. Jack may have been the gentle winter, but he still had power that made even General Winter turn and flee.

Cracking the door open, he leaned out, listening for the others. It was quieter here in the living quarters, with walls and hallways between them and the workshop proper, enough that he could get a vague idea of where the others were gathered. He was _done_ crying over what had happened, and ready to get even...but for once, he could admit he was going to need help.

Well, okay, he probably could handle it on his own once he healed, but...he wanted their help. Maybe even in some way did need it, in ways that had nothing to do with powers and abilities and everything to do with family and their right to help an injured member of their family and have their own revenge.

He limped his way down the hall, unsure if he was steady enough yet to fly. The wind wrapped around him gently and hesitantly he let it lift him off his feet, floating a few inches off the floor to spare his foot as he followed the sound of voices. It wasn't flight, and it was still tiring, but after being grounded, being unsure how long he was going to be grounded, it...helped.

Reaching the door, he cracked it open and paused as he heard Loki's voice, listening to his argument. When Anansi gave him the perfect opening he took it with both hands, floating into the room and planting his staff to give him something to lean against.

“And I'm going to help.”

 

There were cries as Jack floated into the room, wobbling ever so slightly as he landed, joy and concern mixing into a cacophonous whole. Bunny loped over before the others could crowd Jack, silently offering support. Jack limped to his chair, trying to keep pressure off his foot while silently refusing to be carried, leaning on Bunny's arm instead. He may want the coddling, just a little, but he had to stand on his own too.

Still, he was grateful for the aid when Bunny helped him lower slowly into his chair, the icy fabric soothing through pajamas and bandage alike. With a rueful grin, he picked at the leg of the pajamas, looking up at North through his bangs. “I guess you'll get your wish,” he said, still running a hand over the pajamas' soft flannel, “to get me into something more...I dunno, iconic. I don't know what they did with my pants, but they ruined my hoodie. Doubt they were any kinder to the pants. I liked that outfit,” he added, scowling at the thought of needing a new one.

There were a few matching scowls around the room at the reminder, though none of them commented on it.

“Had Phil put some clothes away in your room,” North replied, waving the worry away. “Some replacements, like old clothes. Hoodies and pants like the ones lost. Sewing yeti would love opportunity for new model, can talk to them later. Would make them very happy, give challenge to make something iconic you can move in, be happy with.”

Jack gave a little smile at that. “Thanks. The pjs are...nice, but I don't think I can be taken seriously when we take care of things in snowflake print pajamas.”

“Since you brought it up...what do you want to happen, Jack?” Katherine asked before the arguments could start up again.

Jack took a deep breath, hugging his staff close and curling around it as much as his slowly healing back would allow. “I...I'm not really sure,” he admitted. “I don't want them to ever be able to do this to anyone else, and I want them to pay for what they did, but...” He took a deep breath, trying to figure out just what it was that he did want. “I don't...I...just...”

“Justice,” Tooth said, eyes glowing. “Is that what you want, Jack?”

He looked up at her from under his bangs, leaning into her hand when she fluttered over to lay it on his shoulder. “...yeah. That sounds good.”

The conversation broke off as a grumbling yeti slammed back the door of the room. Still muttering and grumbling, it swept the table next to Jack's chair clear with a sweep of one massive arm, plunking a tray down on it.

It pointed to Jack and the tray, with short, blunt, obvious commands. _You. Eat. Now._ Errand complete, it ruffled his hair quickly before storming out as abruptly as it had entered.

The tricksters were chuckling, more than one Guardian obviously fighting back laughter, and Jack stuck his tongue out at all them as he pulled the tray a little closer. Porridge with fruit and a glass of milk met his eyes, food good for a stomach that had gone empty for days, and he dug in eagerly. 

He forced himself to pace himself – he'd learned early on just what happened when you went for longer than this without eating and then proceeded to stuff yourself – even though it was hard. No one did porridge like a yeti, who were the only ones aside from his mother to make it taste like anything other than mush or to find ways to keep him from getting sick of it halfway through.

North cleared his throat while Jack ate. “We all know why they were hurting Jack, yes?” he said cautiously. 

Wordlessly the three tricksters glanced over at Nightlight and Katherine before looking back to Jack, who nodded silently. At that, they dug out and held up their tears, nodding as the Guardians also held up theirs. Jack snorted quietly, stirring his porridge.

“All this over _tears_ ,” he grumbled. “I have a box full of the things in my den. Maybe...maybe if I just let them fall, no one would care about them if they were everywhere...not that I cry that much but still.”

“Or everyone would, and you'd never be safe,” Tooth said instantly, wings folding tight against her back. “Greed is universal. They're your tears, Jack, and you're the only one who gets to choose what happens to them. What if's aren't going to do anything but hurt, now.”

He sighed and gave a tight little smile, but took another bite of his porridge. He knew it, and they did, but they all knew it would bother him for awhile. “Il est bon de savoir pourquoi ils se produisent ...” he muttered under his breath, not realizing he'd switched to French.

“Knowing why or not, what matters is they happen,” Bunny said firmly. “And since when do you know French?”

A sudden rise of his usual mischief made Jack answer, “Vi ŝatus esti surprizita kiom multaj lingvoj, kiujn mi konas, Cottontail.” 

Oh, he'd missed teasing them just for the sake of doing it. That, and the look on their faces when he pulled something – like the languages – off. So worth it.

Katherine and Nightlight, who had been looking between all of them with a good deal of confusion, spoke up. “I'm sorry, but...what? Not the languages, the...tears?”

Jack sighed, nodding to Bunny to explain while he ate another spoonful of porridge.

“Seems Jack's tears turn into gems, like these,” Bunny said, holding his up. At Jack's little nod he passed it over, letting Katherine and Nightlight have a better look. It mollified Jack quite a bit to see how carefully they handled it as they passed it back to Bunny. He'd already been thinking about giving the two tears later, since they were so close to everyone else, but hadn't decided yet. It definitely put another mark in the 'yes' column, to see them treating this little quirk of his with respect.

“Jackie gives them out sometimes, to friends or family, but he keeps most of 'em, so they're hard to find. And these humans found some, an' wanted more.”

“How'd they find out you were the source?” Katherine asked. Jack scoffed quietly.

“That I'm where they come from? No idea. That it's my tears? That part you can figure out. North probably gave you enough to do that with.”

There was awkward silence for a few moments until Jack sighed. “Sorry,” he said, poking at the last of the porridge.

“You've nothing to apologize for,” Katherine shrugged it off, Nightlight waving it away beside her, throwing moving lights over the walls. “Those men do.”

Jack glanced over at North. “Gave them outline, like you asked,” the big man said. “Details are for you to give when you want.”

“ _If_ you want,” Bunny added quickly, getting a quick smile. Jack sighed again, setting aside the bowl and swirling the last of his milk before downing it, the baby teeth chirping happily as he drank. 

“But for now – you want justice, Jack? If we can wait to get our hands on those men, then I know just who to ask for help. She wasn't around to help me, but she might be able to help you,” Tooth said, rising from her chair in a flutter of wings. “If only to give us ideas. Just give me time to find her and argue to hear your case, and then... then we shall see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Esperanto!Jack was requested. I found a space for Esperanto!Jack. He's saying (according to Google Translate) “You'd be surprised how many languages I know, Cottontail.”
> 
> Il est bon de savoir pourquoi ils se produisent - It'd still be nice to know why they happen 
> 
> Sorry for the reappearance of Google Translate.
> 
> Even before I knew what the word was, somehow I always pictured Puck as sort of genderfluid. So – they. It just sort of...happened.


	21. Chapter 21

Tooth's abrupt declaration and equally abrupt departure left the others baffled, looking at each other in blank confusion. 

Jack twisted to look at the baby teeth still on the cushion near his chair, hissing as it aggravated his back. Baby Tooth chirped and rose to settle in his hair, scolding gently. He grinned, glancing up as though he could see her as she chirped and made herself comfortable on top of his head, welcoming the tiny weight that he'd missed more than he'd realized.

“I don't suppose you ladies know where your Mama was headed?” he asked, holding out a hand to welcome the other fairies. They took him up on the offer eagerly, launching from the cushion to settle over frost covered shoulders and chest, chirping to themselves happily as they did.

North beamed as the baby teeth made themselves comfortable all over Jack, glad that he wasn't fussing too much over them – not yet by Jack standards at least. Katherine caught his eye, glancing back over to the baby teeth and to him with questions clear in her eyes. He shrugged, grinning, and she covered a giggle behind her hands. Nightlight flickered as he kept his own laughter silent, both feeling closer to the frosty child across the room as he coddled the little fairies.

Mary Ellen, settling in the center of Jack's chest, chirped her answer to his question up at him. It took a few tries for him to understand her, but she was patient. Jack was always patient with them, so they tried to be with him. Besides, he was the only Guardian trying to learn their language.

At the moment, at least. The lessons were probably about to expand by two, if the looks on Katherine and Nightlight's faces were anything to go by. 

Jack tilted his head to the side, listening intently, stroking a gentle finger over Mary Ellen's head as she chirped. Bunny's ears flattened against his back – he wanted to listen, but unless they were being careful for him, listening to the baby teeth too long hurt his ears.

“Just...ice? Just...Justice?” Jack finally said. Another couple chirps from Mary Ellen had him amending it to “Lady Justice?”

Loki froze, inching his way behind a very amused Anansi and Raven while Puck looked thoughtful. Jack glanced up at them, raising an eyebrow at Loki's antics. “Never heard of her – but I guess you did, Loki. Wanna fill me in?”

“She's got less of a sense of humor than Mother Nature,” Loki grumbled petulantly from behind the other tricksters, who rolled their eyes at him.

“But she gives the best payback,” Raven cackled, obviously enjoying Loki's distress.

“Is not a bad idea,” North admitted. “We are all angry, too angry to think of what to do. She may be able to think of how to even scales.”

“Awww, but I wanted to think of nasty things to do to them,” Puck protested, pouting from where they still perched over the fireplace. 

“May still be able to,” North said, hands clenching on the arms of his chair. “But if Jack wants justice, she may be the best to help us. She does not always dispense the justice, just make sure it's done and not too much or too little.”

Jack glanced around from under his bangs at the others in the room, stroking a gentle finger over the feather topping Mary Ellen's head. “I'm...kinda surprised you guys want to wait for this 'Lady Justice' person,” he said quietly. “Thought we'd go more straight for the 'go beat them up' option.”

“Would like to,” North admitted, and the others in the room agreed with little cheers or nods, obviously ready to go, “but you want justice, not mindless violence. Besides,” he added, with a sudden protective, feral grin that made Jack's heart swell, knowing it was because of the new relationship, the protectiveness towards him still new and touching, “Lady Justice may have ideas we can not think of, blinded by anger as we are. Justice is not always kind.”

“Do you think she'll want us to have them here when she arrives?” Anansi asked, still ignoring the grumbling Loki. 

“Best not, mates,” Bunny cut in before anyone else could answer. “Knowing that sheila, she'll take it as us starting without her, or us tryin' ta jump the gun on things. She might be okay with it, might not. Tooth's quick, it won't take her long to get her here.”

“Once she finds her and talks her into coming, at least,” Anansi added. 

North heaved himself out of his chair, looking younger than he had since Jack had first disappeared. “Come, Jack,” he said, walking to where Jack still sprawled in his chair covered in baby teeth. “You should get more rest before Lady Justice gets here. And get other clothes – unless you want to plead case in snowflake pajamas.” There was scattered laughter as Jack looked down at his pajamas and made a face, chuckling as he plucked at the flannel again.

“But he looks so cute,” Katherine teased. “Doesn't he, Bunny?”

Bunny refused to answer, mouth twitching with suppressed laughter. Jack stuck his tongue out at her, struggling to his feet and still favoring his injured foot as North stood to his side, ready to help, Bunny supporting his other side. He moved slowly, giving the baby teeth the chance to choose between changing their grip to stay on him or return to their cushion.

They all chose to stay attached to Jack, clustering on his shoulders in the absence of a pocket to crawl into. “You girls are really okay?” Jack whispered as they walked (or limped) along back to his room, occasionally taking to the air to float a few inches above the floor. “I'm so sorry they learned about you, if I hadn't...”

A rousing chorus of chirps interrupting him was his answer, while Bunny and North exchanged understanding and indulgent glances over his head. They were really all fine, the baby teeth assured him, snuggling up against his throat as best they could, scolding him for thinking he'd somehow caused those men to do what they had.

They entered Jack's room and he sank back onto the bed with a sigh. He felt like he'd done nothing but sleep and rest for a week now, even though he knew it had been only a day, if that, since he'd been rescued. Still, he hated being still, and hated more that he was so exhausted he had no choice but to be still and rest.

The baby teeth, as if they knew what Jack was thinking, crooned again, rubbing tiny heads against his cheeks and neck in the best they could do for a hug, some fluttering down to land on his legs to free his shoulders.

They continued to coo as they cuddled against Jack, which did a lot to quell his guilt over inadvertently setting _those men_ on the little ones. 

Bunny crawled up onto the bed, curling up a bit behind Jack for him to lean against. Jack's back protested a bit at the pressure, but Bunny was warm and firm, his fur amazingly soft, so he ignored the twinges to coo back at the baby teeth and absorb Bunny's presence.

North laughed at them, but softly, and crossed the room to the wardrobe Jack had missed earlier, out of the way as it was, and pulled it open to reveal more clothing than Jack had owned as either mortal or spirit.

“There, just like promised!” North declared. “Hoodies, like before, and pants. Yeti still would love to make you something different, though. Just keep in mind. Could be fun. Jack, need any help? No shame if you do, remember.”

“I may have a little trouble balancing, but I think I can manage,” Jack answered after a brief moment of thought. It wasn't a lie, it was going to be a little difficult with his back aching and foot cocooned in its cast, but he'd rather try and dress himself. Bad enough someone had had to put him into pajamas.

“Very well. We wait outside, in case you change mind,” North announced cheerfully. With a disappointed sigh, the baby teeth took to the air at Bunny's significant look, and Jack chuckled as they trailed sullenly behind Bunny as he left.

It took a lot of struggling, but he finally managed to work his way out of the pajamas. He had to balance carefully with his staff to rummage through the wardrobe, trying not to put too much weight on his foot, and had to regretfully pass by several pairs of pants much like the ones he'd lost. There was no way they'd go over his cast, and while he was healing quickly, he was still too tired to heal any quicker than he already was. It was probably going to be a week before they could take the cast off.

In the end, he found a pair of tan capris and a blue hoodie. The capris had a drawstring, and he had to do some interesting squirming on the bed to get them on without bothering his foot, but he managed. They were looser than he liked, but until his foot came out of the cast they'd have to do.

There was a small part of him that was tempted to leave the pajamas on, to try and project small, wounded, frightened spirit, but his pride rejected it. He was the Spirit of Winter, Bringer of Autumn, and a Guardian, and he was not small or frightened.

…all right, maybe he was a little frightened yet, but he wasn't going to let anyone but his family know that. The wounded he couldn't deny, so he wouldn't try when it came to Lady Justice, but it didn't mean he was going to just lay back and wallow.

He'd had enough wallowing, and if Tooth thought this 'Lady Justice' person could help, well, he'd trust her judgment. It was better than waiting around and worrying over what they should do, or feeling guilty later for choosing the wrong reaction. Either way, though, there was no way he was just going to sit back and let everyone else take care of this for him.

There was a knock on the door, interrupting his thoughts. “Jack? How is it going? Tooth sent little fairy to say she will be here soon with Lady Justice, but no rush,” North called.

Taking a deep breath, Jack opened the door, immediately being swarmed by the baby teeth who were still outside the door waiting for him. They settled in his pocket and hood, a couple landing on his shoulder and Baby Tooth claiming his hair again as North's hand rested lightly on his free shoulder.

It felt surprisingly right to have North's hand there, guiding him through the family wing, almost protective. He had vague memories of his human father doing something similar, and it let him press a little closer to North's side as they walked – or in Jack's case, limped, using his staff for support – toward the same family room as they'd left earlier.

He caught North looking at him out of the corner of his eye and debated. He bit his lip and realized he had to admit that his foot hurt too much to limp the rest of the way to the family room, even with the wind's help. Looking up at North, he fiddled with his staff, debating if he wanted to ask for help.

North gave a little cough, amazingly subtle for him, and his hand shifted from Jack's shoulder to his back. He waited for the little nod before scooping Jack up, cradling him close and carrying him the rest of the way.

Just a _little_ more coddling wouldn't hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And all we do is more talk, talk, talk. Sorry - trying to set things up for how I (finally) plotted out for this to go. (I originally only had planned up to the rescue and was going to fade to black on the revenge & recovery.)


	22. Chapter 22

It wasn't until after North had settled Jack into his chair, pressing a quick kiss to his hair, that they noticed the new arrival. Mother Nature sat calmly in a chair the yeti must have brought in for her, she and Katherine making somewhat stilted small talk.

Little wonder it was stilted – Mother Nature may have mellowed over the years, but she still had quite a few apologies left unsaid, and little interaction with other spirits.

Jack's fellow tricksters were still gathered around the fireplace. They were projecting nonchalance – some with more success than others – as they kept a careful eye on Mother Nature. Loki was still partially hiding behind Anansi, who Jack suspected wasn't as calm as he appeared. The amusement, though, that he believed was genuine. 

They wouldn't tell Jack which of them had done it – he suspected Loki or Puck, personally, mostly Loki based on how he reacted to just the name 'Mother Nature' – but they'd warned him of the time one of them had tried to play a prank on Mother Nature. She might have appreciated it once, a long time ago, but apparently she did not appreciate it now.

The small talk broke off as North moved away from Jack, just enough to stand by his chair, resting his hand on the back protectively.

“So. It's true,” Mother Nature said after giving Jack an uncomfortably penetrating once over. “They did find you. This is good. And you even seem to be in one piece. Are you injured?”

Jack shifted uncomfortably, trying not to wince at the tinge of pain that shot from his back. It was healing, but his exhaustion was making it heal slowly – almost human slow.

His shifting drew her attention to his foot, and he was fairly sure she hadn't missed his wince either. 

“You are injured,” she said, voice flat and unemotional, somehow giving the impression of a volcano waiting for the right moment. She turned her gaze to North. “Do you have the ones responsible in custody yet? Are they suitably punished?”

“They are mortal,” North said, spreading his huge hands in the face of her icy hot stare. “We must decide what to do. Jack wants justice, so Tooth is searching for Lady Justice, so we may have her council.” 

Mother Nature nodded slowly, the wind that had picked up around her, whipping her hair into a tangle, dying back down as she calmed. “That is possibly the wisest course,” she admitted. “You will permit me to stay and assist?”

Jack tilted his head, biting his lip as he looked at her from across the room. “I...” he glanced up at North, then around the room at the other Guardians. They nodded or shrugged, leaving the final decision to him.

“I...won't say no, but...why do you care now? You never did before,” he asked, then immediately wished the words unsaid.

Mother Nature inclined her head, acknowledging his point rather than taking offense. “I believed you fully the Man in the Moon's spirit before a few years ago, and that it was another group of spirits pulling through on the autumn and winter. I...do not always take as close an interest in the day to day as I possibly should. For that, I will apologize, though it changes nothing. Should you need the time to heal, I will assist you with the autumn and winter this year.”

Jack gaped at her, and she smiled, a soft curve of lips. “If it helps, you have been doing very well with both seasons without aid these past decades. Though really, you do have the sprites of both seasons who can help.”

“I'll...keep that in mind,” Jack said faintly. 

Mother Nature's smile grew. “You had no idea how important you are, did you.” It was a statement, rather than a question, though it made Jack grip his staff tighter and look away, suddenly inspecting the frost coating its surface.

“Hard to believe you're important when all anyone wants from you is to go away,” he muttered.

Tooth fluttered in before anyone could respond to that, a yeti following her with another chair. A woman followed in behind her, tall as Mother Nature, who exchanged nods with Lady Justice as she settled into the chair the yeti set down for her, arranging her toga-like dress carefully as she did.

“Queen Toothiana requested my presence,” she stated simply, folding her hands in her lap and looking over the gathered spirits evenly. “To what end may my presence assist the Guardians? It is rare for spirits to call upon me.”

“True,” North agreed. “We do tend to take care of things ourselves. But,” he rested a hand on Jack's shoulder, drawing the lady's attention to the frost spirit curled in his chair, “Jack wants _justice_ , and we are too angry to make decisions that are justice, not retribution.”

“That is...admirable,” Lady Justice said finally, still looking at Jack levelly. “Will you tell me what has happened that causes you to seek justice?”

Jack glanced around the room, taking a deep breath. “I...only let North tell the others the basics. I...really just...”

“If I am to help you deliver justice to those who hurt you, then I must know your story and that you are telling me true,” Justice said implacably, though a hint of sympathy showed in her eyes. 

“There is other sitting room,” North offered. Jack looked up at him hopefully as he continued, resting a hand on Jack's shoulder. “You may use it, and tell story without audience.”

Jack swallowed harshly, forcing himself to his feet. Bunny caught his eye, giving him a soft, loving smile and an encouraging nod. He stood a little straighter under that gaze, eventually making himself look away before he did anything embarrassing. A quick glance around the room garnered more encouraging nods.

After a moment's thought, he turned back to North. “Come with me?” he asked, hating how tiny his voice sounded at the moment.

An expression of surprise crossed North's face briefly before it cleared with a firm nod, striding forward to lay his hand on Jack's shoulder again, a possessive and protective gesture Jack was already starting to lean into and depend on. 

They nodded to the other spirits, Jack taking another deep breath as North led them to the smaller sitting room. 

North stopped him when he would have hopped onto the desk to sit, guiding him into a proper chair instead. It was still strange, sitting properly in chairs, despite having his memories now of doing so when he was alive. Three hundred years of not having chairs but those in his den would do that.

Her face an emotionless mask, Justice held out a hand. A swirl of magic formed, solidifying into a sword.

She held it out to Jack. He hesitated before taking in, cradling it awkwardly. A sharp little gesture from her and the sword lit up with a soft blue glow, and Jack nearly dropped it.

He had a suspicion she was laughing at his reaction, though there wasn't a trace of it on her face when she spoke. “So long as you speak the truth, the sword will remain alight. Tell me your tale.”

North eyed the sword suspiciously. “Pardon, but I had heard the sword...”

She allowed a small smile at that. “Only if necessary. Jack has a reputation of truthfulness. It seemed...excessive. Tell me your tale,” she repeated.

Jack eyed the two of them, debating asking what they were talking about, before taking a deep breath and letting it slide. This wasn't going to be any easier a second time, and he wanted it over with. “I was flying above Burgess, when a net came out of nowhere...”

 

Jack's grip on the sword was making his hands ache, but he couldn't loosen them. He was holding back the tears with pure willpower – he'd cried enough over all of this – but kept his eyes firmly locked on his hands.

The sword's glow hadn't so much as faltered throughout his retelling, and if he had needed to pause more than once, to collect himself, it wasn't commented on, nor did either spirit in the room comment on the shaky state of his voice.

He finished at last, finally allowing himself to glance up at the other two spirits. North looked torn between rekindled fury at the mortals, concern for Jack, and pride in him. Justice's face was still blank, eyes fixed on the sword Jack gripped tightly.

With a sigh her iron control melted, and she reached to take the sword from Jack. He handed it over eagerly, glad to get the sharp implement of pointy doom away from himself, and she settled her free hand on his shoulder for a brief moment.

“Yes,” she said simply, “you have more than earned your justice. I will aid you.” She turned to North, balancing the sword across both hands. “You have yet to collect the mortals who did this?”

“Felt it would make you think we were not willing to wait for you, that we were going ahead with revenge and asking you here for show,” North answered defensively. She nodded slowly, eyes unfocused as she thought.

“I saw tricksters in the sitting room. Friends of Jack's?” she asked instead. Jack nodded sharply, still unsettled. She turned back to North with the faintest hint of a smile playing about her mouth. “As you were the ones to rescue Jack, perhaps you may allow his friends to bring his tormenters here, to face me?”

Jack's grin was sharp as the winter wind as he looked at North. “I think they'd be delighted to help,” was all he said.

 

'Delighted' was an understatement. Gleeful, perhaps, would be a better way to describe the looks the tricksters gave North when he asked them to, if they wouldn't mind, bring Jack's kidnappers back to face Lady Justice.

“No getting ahead of us,” he warned quickly, handing the snowglobes that would take them there and back to Anansi and Raven, “They face justice here, not on way.”

The four of them gave him various degrees of innocent looks even as they disappeared into the portal. North looked across the room to the other silently amused Guardians. “Why am I not reassured?”

Tooth fluttered up from her chair, wringing her hands. “I have to go check on my girls,” she said quietly. “I won't be long, but I've never left them running things by themselves this long before.”

“Do ya need me to get the little sheilas that are here?” Bunny asked, already standing. “They're with Jack.”

Tooth shook her head before he could do more than stand. “I know I don't need to coddle them, or Jack, but I _want_ to...and I think it'll help if they can just be together a little longer.”

“Sounds like a good idea to me, Toothie,” Bunny agreed. He looked over at North, a touch defiantly. “I'm gonna go check on Jack. Talk to 'im if he's awake.”

A yeti barged into the room before North could reply, talking too fast for anyone but North to understand. 

“What? But how...never mind. Bunny, yes, you go sit with Jack. Katherine, will you and Nightlight aid yeti and Lady Justice? Mabel says spirits arriving to find out what has happened and will happen. Will need larger area for trial than expected – this will be messy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for all the talking and no action, but certain things do need talked out. On the other hand, though - I have released the tricksters! Which means we're going to get to see just what Pitch has been up to this whole time...


	23. Chapter 23

The four tricksters stood outside the mansion where Jack had been held captive, looking up at it speculatively, unknowingly copying Pitch's earlier consideration. 

“We need to take them back in one piece so Lady Justice can give Jack what he wants,” Raven said contemplatively.

“Don't they realize how much leeway that leaves us?” Loki mused, sharing a grin with Puck, his usual partner in crime.

“Plan or none?” they asked, casually flipping a dagger from hand to hand.

There was a moment of silence before all four laughed, striding towards the mansion.

There would have been special effects, but they were saving it for when they had an audience. There would be an especially appreciative one waiting on them as it was, no need to waste a perfectly good bit of magic.

 

Ruthvan clutched at his hair, slumped over the desk in his office. Bad enough Jack Frost got away from them, but the tears...the tears they'd forced from him had disappeared. The whole reason for all of this, gone! 

The reports, from the few able to give any kind of report, claimed some kind of fairy, Santa Claus, a giant rabbit, and the Sandman had burst their way in and rescued the spirit, that they'd only been interested in Frost...but they'd been knocked out before the spirits had gone, so who knew what could have happened.

How could this _happen_? They'd had everything so well planned out! Now no one would even go down into the basement holding areas – they were claiming they were haunted, or some other nonsense. The tears were still down there somewhere! The whole point of this was the tears! If they couldn't have Frost – and this was just a setback, they'd find him again, and those other things that had come for him, they _would_ – they at least needed to find those tears!

All his researchers were injured in some way, too, to just add to the frustration. Those...those _freaks_ hadn't been gentle when they'd come to fetch Frost. 

Dr. Shuu was still recovering from being thrown into a concrete wall and from somehow gaining large swatches of frostbite, though he was likely to recover. He was one of the worse injured, the rest having similar wounds. Whip marks, impacts...the one giant spirit had been wielding swords, so it was probably a miracle no one was dead.

Ruthvan had been impatient enough to try going down himself after those tears. He...he could have sworn everything down there had been covered in blood, stunk of it, the floors sticky and walls dripping, the rooms echoing with Frost's screams. The instruments had reached for him, ready to strap him down and...he didn't know what, exactly, as he hadn't stayed to find out. 

There must have been a gas leak or something down there causing hallucinations. It had been incredibly dark, so that had to be it.

The men were muttering rumors, already freaked in the...what was it now, twelve hours? Twenty? A day? Since Frost had been taken? ...however long it had been, they were already talking about what was down there, if the other spirits existed, if one of _them_ could have claimed the basement for their own as revenge.

They whispered of eyes in the dark, hiding in the closets and under the beds, the word “Boogeyman” floating through the makeshift infirmary like a kindergarten classroom.

They were wrong. They had to be. _There was no such thing as the Boogeyman!_

 

Down in the basement, Pitch tilted back his head and stretched, taking a moment to luxuriate in the fear filtering down to him like a cat in a pile of warm laundry. Adult fears were usually too complex, too close to home for him to gain anything from, even as he could feel them, use them for his own ends – but this was different. 

These adults were afraid of the basement – of the Boogeyman hiding there. It wasn't enough for what they'd done, but for now, the taste of it was sweet.

About to explore the length of the basement again he paused, cocking his head to the side. Spirits...four of them...coming into the mansion. Not the Guardians, four different spirits.

Snarling, Pitch slid into the shadows to confront them.

 

“What do you _tricksters_ want?” a voice growled out of the shadows that sprang up to surround the foursome. There were yelps that all four would deny later before they recognized the shadows.

“What are you doing here, Pitch?” Raven growled, crouching and ready to change from human to animal. “Were you helping them?”

“Did you enjoy feeding on Jack?” Loki snarled, as animalistic as Raven. 

The shadows paused before Pitch laughed, the four caught in his shadows tensing. “Don't be fools,” he said, passing from shadow to shadow as he circled them, finally appearing in a swirl of shadow in front of them. “If I wanted Frost afraid, I would do it myself. Never trust things to amateurs when there's a professional around.”

“So what are you doing here, if not to feed on Jack's fear?” Anansi demanded. None of them were quite ready to try attacking Pitch – even with so few believers, Pitch was a force to be reckoned with, and their strengths lay in trickery, not sheer power – but they weren't just going to stand by anymore. 

Pitch examined his fingernails idly, deliberately provoking. “Have you noticed how, once an adult begins to believe in one of us, how easy it is to make them believe in more?” 

Four glances were exchanged, postures eased, as it all clicked. “You got started without us!” Puck protested, though there was laughter in their voice. 

Pitch quirked an invisible eyebrow at the trickster, and Anansi the storyteller answered. “Jack wants justice, not revenge. The Guardians sent us here to bring the mortals responsible to Lady Justice for judgment.”

Pitch went quiet at that, quiet and still as a hunting predator, his shadows twisting and hissing about them, eyes staring at them without seeing them, unblinking and flat gold.

Finally he blinked, slowly, as though released from stone, and the tricksters released breaths they hadn't realized they were holding. “Lady...Justice. Yes. Yes. Satisfying as this is, that is more. At least she will not be soft on them as the Guardians would be...” Pitch mused. 

He blinked again, looking at the tricksters and grinning. They drew together, feeling ice drip down their backs at that grin. “Yes. Let's gather them up, so Frost may have his _justice_.”

 

Life was rather fun when Pitch Black was willing to work with you, the tricksters decided a few minutes into their mission. They weren't quite ready to ask again just what Pitch had been up to before they'd arrived, but the humans were terrified enough of his shadows to be easy to round up.

Plus, it was fun to see the ones who caused Jack so much pain ready to wet themselves.

“Think that's all of them?” Puck asked, looking over the groaning men, bound together with Anansi's webbing. 

“These are the workers,” Pitch said dismissively. “They aided, but they weren't the ones who ordered what happened here. From what I've heard, didn't even aid that much. Jack's main tormentor is in there,” he said, indicating a room down the hallway, “North took care of him for us, and Jack apparently made his feelings known as well. He won't be an issue. The one who ordered all this, however,” and a grin spread across his face, making the mortals shake and huddle closer together, “he is down _there._ ”

The answering grins from the tricksters made the hardened criminals whimper like frightened children.

 

Ruthvan's head snapped up to look at the door, wondering if he was over-tired of if he'd actually heard something. Shrugging, he turned back to what he'd been doing. He didn't have any men on a plan to retrieve Frost yet, they were all still recovering from that attack, and none of them would dare bother him now anyway.

Blinking, he picked up the piece of paper and squinted at it before glancing around the room. What was wrong with the lights? It was getting so dark in here...the shadows stretched up the walls, growing and beginning to move with a life of their own even as he watched.

Ruthvan shot up, his chair clattering to the floor behind him as he stared at the shadows. _No, no this wasn't happening! It couldn't be happening!_ screamed through his head over and over as he backed away from the shadows licking up his walls, stumbling over his feet as he spun and fought toward the doorway.

He tore the door open and a net came shooting from the hallway. Screaming, he fell, fighting against the tacky ropes that bound him. 

Figures strode into his room, indistinct in the uncertain light – save for one. Golden eyes looked down at him from a figure too tall, too thin to be human, a sharp, death's head grin of razor sharp teeth crossing its face as it bent towards him, and Ruthvan's eyes rolled back in his head as he fainted.

“...well, that wasn't as much fun as it could have been.”

 

The other human was even less fun than the boss man had been, confined to a bed as he was. He was actually sleeping when they snuck into his room, and Anansi had rolled him up in webbing before he'd woken, Pitch getting him in the face with nightmare sand almost as an afterthought.

They'd have to make up for that later.

 

The men who were still awake freaked out at the sight of the portal, but the tricksters and Pitch ignored their cries and unceremoniously tossed them through. 

Loki picked up the man who'd been stuck in bed, hauling him over one shoulder and stepping though the portal, while Pitch picked up the boss by his collar and followed, surrounded by the other tricksters.

 

There were cries as Pitch emerged from the portal, silenced in shock as he dropped the man he was carrying at North's feet. He grinned, sharp and feral, the grin faltering to disappear into a neutral nod when he met Mother Nature's eyes.

Lady Justice stepped forward before North could explode, placing herself between the Guardians and Pitch. “I did not believe you interested in this particular case, Pitch Black.”

He inclined his head toward her ever so slightly. “I take offense at a mortal holding any spirit captive for monetary gain. As I believed the Guardians to be the only ones who would attempt to punish them, and they are too soft, I took it into my own hands, but I relinquish them to you. After all, the victim should be the one to choose what happens.”

“You began to punish them?” Justice questioned, voice growing cold. Pitch waved a dismissive hand. 

“Frights in the basement they used to torture Frost, keeping them away from it and any profits they may have gained from what they did. I'd barely started when these tricksters showed up.”

Almost as one, the spirits still in the room glanced at the still conscious men, who were eying some of them nervously, obviously able to see most but not all of the spirits in the room – but obviously able to see Pitch, and doing their best to keep away from him. 

Sandy floated up next to Lady Justice, crossing his arms and glaring at Pitch. He didn't bother with sand symbols, knowing Pitch could understand him without them.

“Sanderson! What a thing to suggest!” Pitch gasped, managing to sound offended. “Of course I meant that. You, of all spirits, should know how you and your little friends either go too soft or too harshly on your enemies.”

Sandy rolled his eyes, wagging a tiny finger in Pitch's face as several of the spirits who had edged their way into the room, unused to Sandy and Pitch's interactions, gasped in shock. Possibly at Sandy's daring, possibly that he still had the finger afterward.

The Guardians, on the other hand, ignored the byplay through years of experience, watching Pitch warily while letting Sandy handle him.

Lady Justice broke into the heated stare the two were sharing, and several spirits gave near audible sighs of relief – until she spoke. “Will you stand by, then, and accept my judgment in this case, or will you demand more than what I deem equal?”

“Well that depends on just what you claim will even the scales,” Pitch replied coldly.

“All know you have a tendency for the dramatic,” Lady Justice said, still calm in the face of his provocation. “However, I have an idea that may require your assistance, as well as yours, Lord Mansnoozie. Will you speak with me?”

Sandy and Pitch exchanged equally curious and distrustful glances before each shrugged. “If you wish,” Pitch decided, Sandy giving a few symbols that indicated interest, curiousity, and unease. “Do tell.”

“St. North, if you could find a safe place for these men to await our return?” Lady Justice asked North, who gestured to a few yeti standing by. “I suggest the rest of you await us in the space St. North has graciously provided for our...trial. We may want witnesses to what we are about to do, that none may claim Jack somehow deserved their actions – or that we were not just in our response.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was thisclose to not posting this chapter this week, since I'm not sure I'm 100% happy with it and the next chapter's not done - but I couldn't make myself. Got myself a bit stuck with the next chapter, but I'm working on it - let's hope I can get it done in time.
> 
> I hope everyone enjoys what Pitch was up to - he didn't have much time to really get going, yet somehow it's still rather cathartic to just...let him go.


	24. Chapter 24

Bunny made his way to Jack's room, shaking his head. Sending the tricksters after the humans...probably better than him or North, he had to admit – he wasn't sure either of them would be able to keep their tempers under control, but it was still risky and unpredictable.

Probably less than what they deserved, though.

Taking a deep breath, he poked his head into the room almost hesitantly. The baby teeth, still cuddling with Jack, reassuring him they didn't blame him for almost being captured (he was starting to believe them, really he was, but neither he nor they really wanted to put an end to the cuddles), glanced up before most of them moved to the headboard, ready to give the two a chance to talk.

Baby Tooth stayed in Jack's hands, leaning against Jack's chest quietly, letting out the occasional chirp or rubbing her head against his chest, mostly content to simply rest there.

Bunny took a deep breath, coming to crouch by the side of the bed Jack was reclining on. Jack knew he should have been napping, resting for the emotional rollercoaster that was sure to be the confrontation and trial, but he just couldn't.

Bunny took another deep breath, shifting in place, ears twitching madly. “I...I think we need to talk, Snowflake.”

Jack bit his lip, exchanging worried looks with Baby Tooth. Being told 'we need to talk' hardly ever ended well, especially when they were as nervous as Bunny was, but Bunny did use the affectionate nickname...

“I...know we kinda had an...an _understanding_ , before all this happened, and I wanted ya ta know...if ya...if ya want me to, I can back off. I still wanna be with ya,” he added quickly, as Jack started to shrink in on himself, “but I don't want ta push ya. I want ya ta know I ain't gonna push ya inta courtin' again until ya say you're ready.”

Jack stroked Baby Tooth's head, almost like he was making up for his staff being out of reach and needing something to do with his hands. “Even after...everything that happened to me?”

“It's somethin' that happened to ya. It doesn't change how I feel about ya.”

Jack glanced up at him through his bangs. “It might be awhile before I'm ready to be touched...touched like that,” he warned softly.

“We got lots of time, Snowdrop. Pretty much eternity, if everything goes right. Some things are worth waitin' for.”

The smile he got for that was blinding, and he didn't hesitate before coming closer to the bed, going slow enough for Jack to see him coming to give his temple a gentle nuzzle. “Tired, Jackie?”

“Not really,” Jack shrugged. “I don't think I could sleep if I tried, but...”

“But ya don't think ya could do much more than lie here?” Bunny finished. Jack huffed, Baby Tooth trilling sympathy.

“It's so frustrating!”Jack burst out, thumping the bed with his free fist. Bunny huffed a laugh, laying his hand on Jack's.

“Worst part o' healing up,” he agreed. “Too awake to sleep, too tired to do anything.”

“Gonna keep me company?” Jack asked, glancing up through his bangs. He tugged on Bunny's hand when he would have sat in the chair by the bed, hesitating when Bunny stopped.

Slowly, watching Jack intently for any sign of discouragement or discomfort, Bunny climbed onto the bed, the two shifting until Jack was sitting up against Bunny's chest, arms draped around Jack's waist.

“Ya sure this is okay, Snowflake?” Bunny asked cautiously. Oh, but he didn't want to move – Jack was cool and solid in his arms, and he just wanted to bury his nose in Jack's hair and breathe in his scent, reassure himself that the nightmare was over and Jack was safe and sound. Yes, he'd reassured himself before, and Jack had been safe for about a day now, but still. It was going to take longer than that to feel safe again.

Jack leaned back a little more into Bunny's chest, relaxed and loose. “More than okay, Roo.” He was surrounded by Bunny's fur, and it was even better than he'd imagined. The welts on his back still stung a little, but it was a price he was very willing to pay to be cuddled close in Bunny's arms.

 

The door creaked open a little while later, Katherine peeking around the edge.

“Mind a little extra company?” she asked quietly. “Mother Nature took over my job with organizing everyone.”

Jack, who'd been half lulled into a doze by Bunny's heat and heartbeat, stirred at that. “Everyone?”

Katherine nodded, pulling over a large, almost overstuffed blue armchair from the corner where it had gone unnoticed. Managing to shove and yank it into position by the bed, she plopped down into it, bouncing lightly. “I guess you didn't hear about everything that happened while you were...yeah.”

Jack took a deep breath, feeling Bunny's arms tighten briefly around him, still afraid to hold too tightly lest he send him into flashbacks. Jack was grateful for it, but he was still pretty sure that once he stopped being so tired no amount of dreamsand was going to give him pleasant nights for awhile.

“You're good at stories, sheila. Why don't ya give 'im the summary?” Bunny suggested, giving Jack's hair a snuffle and making him laugh. It was weak, but it still made the other two smile.

Katherine leaned back in her chair, trying to decide just how to summarize everything. Usually she'd tell the whole story, but right now Jack needed the basics. There was no telling when things would be ready, and he should really know, so there was no time for the whole thing.

“Well...this is going to be the short and messy summary, sorry. I'll give you the proper story later. Apparently, the other Guardians got worried after they hadn't seen you for a few days. So they started looking, which got Mother Nature's attention, who sent out the winter sprites, and I'm sure you know what they're like...”

 

Several hours later, the tricksters had returned (with Pitch in tow, a surprise none of them had really been prepared for) and Jack had no idea his tormenters were at the Pole. That thought kept running around North's head as he made more preparations, an old ballroom being converted into a courtroom to Lady Justice's specifications.

North didn't know it, but Jack asked about when they would be there after Katherine had finished summing up the past week, and she told him North had decided not to tell him when his friends arrived with the mortals, that instead they would come and fetch him when it was time for the trial. He'd wanted to be angry about North's high-handed decision not to tell him when his tormenters arrived, started to be angry, but eventually and privately had to admit that knowing they were here would have made him angry and afraid, even knowing he had all the Guardians and yeti there to protect him.

It was up to him if he wanted to attend, but he was adamant he'd be there. If nothing else, they'd need him to accuse them, and he wanted to face them while he was free.

Besides, he was fairly sure he didn't really have a choice about it, despite Katherine claiming he did. 

 

North paused at the door to Jack's room, listening to the soft rise and fall of Katherine's voice. He couldn't quite make out what she was saying, but the cadence suggested she was mid-story.

Risking a peek, he cracked the door open just enough to see inside. Katherine sat in the overlarge armchair they'd left in the corner of Jack's room, the one they'd all forgotten when he was sleeping, too worried to remember the further away comfortable chair when there'd been one closer to the bed already.

Bunny was leaning against the bed's headboard, Jack in his arms and resting against a furry chest. The baby teeth that had apparently attached themselves to him were settled on his shoulders again, save the one named Baby Tooth, who was nestled in the front of Jack's hoodie against the hollow of his throat.

It was a soft, homey scene, one North would give nearly anything to see more often, and it felt like sacrilege to break its peace.

Sacrilege or not, sooner or later he would have to. For now, he inched to door closed again and went to go see just what was going on in the rooms he had set aside for the trial. He could give them this much longer.

 

The number of spirits appearing at the Pole's doors was both far more than North had expected and fewer than he'd feared. If he were perfectly honest, he hadn't expected any to come. Yes, there had been talk about where Jack was, worry and stories about just how wrong the rumors of him – even as mild as they had been, they'd still been wrong – had been traveling across the globe, but he'd thought that once word got around that Jack had been rescued, they would all assume the Guardians would deal an appropriate punishment to who or what had held him, and that the matter would be otherwise dropped.

He wasn't sure how they found out about their calling of Lady Justice and intention to hold a trial so that she could sentence them, but they had.

What surprised him more was how many were coming out of concern or a desire to know the truth over the rumors.

The very fact that the Guardians had called on Lady Justice, and that it had been Jack who asked for justice, had apparently done him no harm and quite some good with various spirits. It was far, far easier for a spirit to let their outrage dictate their actions and return like with like, and rare to keep their head enough to ask for justice.

He half wished Jack had just let them punish the mortals themselves, but if Jack wanted justice, then justice he would have. If only there were some way to keep rumors to stay true...he groaned, remembering how little they had known of Jack before they had truly gotten to know him...

True, the rumors had been fairly mild, painting him as selfish, irresponsible, and disrespectful, but...really, it wasn't that bad, compared to the rumors that could have spread about him. And really, Jack could be a bit of all of those, they just left out all of his good qualities.

If only there was a way to get the rumor mill going in Jack's favor...

Hit with a sudden idea, North headed for his personal workshop. It was a gamble...but it just might work!

 

Sandy examined the dreams he had created, checking them over one last time before sending them off, confident they would reach their intended recipients. He wouldn't bring Jamie or Sophie here, as this all was spirit business, but they at least deserved to know Jack was okay. Last minute business finished, he knocked on the door to the small room the yeti had directed him too, wondering just what North was up to in there.

The door opened silently, and Sandy found himself even more confused as it revealed North talking to a group of dryads, naids, sylphs, gnomes, and other elemental spirits. Very low on power, the kind of spirits that were tied to their area unless a more powerful spirit aided them, and yet very numerous for all that.

North broke off from whatever he was telling them to turn to Sandy at the sound of the door. “Ah, there you are Sandy. You all know Sandy, yes?”

There were nods around the group, most gazing at Sandy eagerly for news. Sandy nodded a greeting back to them before grabbing the front of North's shirt, dragging him off to the corner.

The flurry of dreamsand over Sandy's head was near incomprehensible, save the repeating “?”.

“You know them Sandy, surly you've seen them around before,” North chuckled. Sandy rolled his eyes and repeated a few of his symbols, trying to make himself clear.

“Ah, you want to know why they are here?” North said, quietly (for him), and Sandy heaved a sigh. _Finally_. He sent up a few more signs, North watching closely before nodding.

“Yes, Sandy I know they are notorious gossips. Is why they are here.”

“!??”

“Listen – if we get them to have full story, straight, true story, with Lady Justice and her demands that only the truth of what happens today be told by witnesses, then we can have them spread truth instead of rumors they would make up if they did not know.”

Sandy blinked at North, mind gone blank as he tried to process his answer. On the one hand...this could turn into a disaster. On the other...there was a strange kind of mad logic to this.

He glared up at North, forming a pair of scales with his sand. “Lady Justice?” North guessed, following along as Sandy continued to sign. “Ah – you want me to tell Lady Justice, so she can be sure they spread only truth?” A firm nod was his answer, and North nodded slowly.

“Very well, my friend. Now, did you need something?”

Sandy, who had turned to look over at the gossips gathered in the other corner of the room, turned back to North at that. He looked up grimly, a few symbols forming over his head.

_Lady Justice is ready. It is time for the trial._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason, the closer we get to the trial, the harder this is to write. But it's finally coming!


	25. Chapter 25

A knock at the door interrupted Katherine's new story, a lively retelling of how she, North, Nightlight, and Bunny all met (with occasional commentary from Bunny, teasing banter tossed between the two and all of them laughing at his so very serious corrections).

Their laughter died as the door opened, North's face unusually solemn as he stepped inside. He took a deep breath and looked up at them, striding across the room to stand by Katherine.

“Lady Justice is ready. Are you ready, Jack?” 

Jack swallowed, hands tightening on Bunny's arms before he nodded. North laid a heavy hand on Jack's shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze.

“Some spirits have come to witness trial. Is that okay with you, Jack?”

Jack shot up in bed, wincing as his body protested. “What!? Why would they...why would _anyone_...”

“They are concerned, and want to find truth before rumors begin to spread,” North said. At his side, Katherine reached out to lay a hand on Jack's leg, pausing to try and let him know she was coming.

“No one cared before,” Jack said softly. Hands and arms squeezed, reminding Jack that he wasn't alone, not anymore or ever again.

“Better late than never, right Snowdrop?” Bunny said quietly.

North sat at the foot of Jack's bed, taking one of Jack's hands in his. “Most spirits are solitary, and winter spirits more than most,” he said, cupping Jack's hand between his. “So we all assumed you were like rest, and believed rumors that you were reckless and selfish troublemaker. But now, spirits are hearing stories of what you have done for us, for humans, and realizing how badly they have judged you. Also, they are angry mortals held a spirit and Guardian captive, even if they don't know all they have done to you. They wish to know that you are safe, and that they are safe. They would be angry any spirit was held, but are growing more upset that it was you that was taken.”

“And it only took getting kidnapped and tortured for a few days to get acceptance,” Jack muttered. North's hands tightened briefly on his and Jack glanced up at him from under his bangs, wincing as he made himself meet North's eyes.

“We are all standing with you now, Jack,” North said firmly. “In the courtroom and out, for the rest of eternity.”

“Now let's go face 'em down and get you your justice, mate,” Bunny said, his voice rumbling through Jack's chest. Jack straightened under their support, taking a deep breath and giving a firm nod.

“I'm ready.”

 

Jack almost took those words back as they got closer to the ballroom turned court, nerves making his knees weak. He could sense Katherine behind him, and North and Bunny's hands were warm where they rest on his shoulder and the small of his back, lending him strength to keep moving.

He nearly faltered again when the door to the impromptu courtroom opened and the chatter of the spirits inside washed over him.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the room, still flanked by Bunny and North. There was a soft buzz and gentle glows of gold and white as Tooth, Sandy, and Nightlight joined them, the Guardians surrounding and supporting their youngest.

The words of the crowd – North had said some spirits, but to Jack it looked like the room was packed full of spirits, though there couldn't have been more than thirty at the most – washed over him, only able to pick out snatches of words here and there.

“Can't have been a prank...”

“Not even _Frost_ would involve Lady Justice...”

“You're just prejudiced...”

“He sounds so sweet...”

“Who would've believed it?”

“Do you think it's true?”

The chatter slowly began to die down as the spirits noticed them enter, and Jack glanced around nervously. The attention of so many spirits on him at once was daunting, making him want to retreat to his room, and he hadn't even seen his former captors yet.

Somehow, this had been easier when he thought he'd only have to face them, with Lady Justice and the Guardians at his side. 

He noticed a few spirits that were at least neutral towards him, a few more who were at least willing to pass a nod in his direction in the crowd, quite a few he recognized as notorious gossips, and none that he remembered as going out of their way to be unfriendly at the least. The worst he could see were those who shooed him away, some more forcefully than others, or who ignored him. Well, not including Pitch, that was...a Pitch seated far away from a watchful Mother Nature, a Pitch who seemed a touch uneasy under her eyes.

And nearly all of them were watching him with eyes that were curious or sympathetic at best, and neutral at worst. Jack kept having to fight the urge to glance around for hidden cameras or question if he'd fallen into a parallel world.

“What's Pitch doing here?” Jack whispered to North instead as the chatter started up again.

“He was at mansion when your friends arrived,” North whispered back, and Jack glanced up to see the tricksters in a group by a set of empty seats near Lady Justice, obviously saved for the Guardians. The foursome waved as Jack caught their eyes, and he smiled, if a little weakly, and waved back. “He was...upset that men were torturing a spirit, and Lady Justice wanted him to stay. Would not say why, just that she had idea that may need him.”

Well...if it was just one enemy in a room of potential allies or at least neutral parties, and that enemy was playing the 'only _I_ get to hurt him' card...it could have been a lot worse.

Some of the faces in the crowd began to come into focus, separate into faces he was at least friendly with – Cupid, several kitsune, Coyote, and a pair of snow maidens, to name a few – nodded, waved, or sent sympathetic looks his way as they walked into the room, and Jack clutched each close. He wasn't alone in this, and had more allies than he'd realized.

Carefully the group skirted a dock, standing high from the floor in isolated splendor (the yeti were amazing in how fast they could make things) to the set of seats left for them by the high desk where Lady Justice watched them all with cool, assessing eyes.

“As we are all here, I hereby call this court to order,” Lady Justice announced in a voice that carried easily over the renewed chatter. “Before we begin, I wish to remind you all that I will not tolerate anything but the truth of what happens here being told, nor the victim of all this being blamed. That is not just, and I will not stand for it.” A few spirits shifted uncomfortably at that, and as she lingered on those as her harsh gaze swept the courtroom, receiving nods – some of which were rather frightened and daunted nods, especially from those most prone to gossip – before she nodded sharply, satisfied.

“If we are all in accord, then...bring forth the accused.”

 

The yeti were the ones in charge of herding the men in, the underlings still wide eyed with shock as they stared at the furry creatures. A few bruises among them suggested they had tried taking the yeti on at least once, and the yeti had proven in return they weren't going to be taken down.

The underlings were herded into a smaller dock set in front of the main one, this one on the floor with a chest-high railing around it. They were to be taken to task for lesser crimes, for aiding and abetting the men in charge, but as Jack had said they hadn't done much but watch, had barely mentioned them...

Jack's hands twisted on his staff, tight enough his hands had gone paper white as the yeti brought in the doctor and his assistant, their arms bound in front of them and two hulking yeti watching their every move. Their boss followed after, similarly bound and with an equal guard. 

The three were ushered – correction, herded – up the short flight of stairs into the main dock, whose railing was almost high enough to make it count as a cage. As soon as the railing closed behind the threesome, locking them in, Lady Justice stood, ready to begin the trial proper.

 

Ruthvan's head was spinning. It had been surreal enough that Jack Frost existed, but that was easy enough to accept into his worldview, once he'd had the physical proof in front of him. Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy...if Jack Frost existed, why not them?

But...the Sandman, that little creampuff? And since when was the Easter Bunny over six feet tall and able to throw around his trained men like they were stuffed toys?

He'd barely had time to wrap his mind around their existence before...he had to bite back a shudder...the Boogeyman himself showed up, proving years of nightmares true in one terrifying second.

He knew he'd passed out, since he'd woken up wrapped up in some kind of sticky...rope, in a tiny room he didn't recognize, with huge monsters growling at him. They'd looked ready to rip his head off if he irritated them more than they already were, so he'd gone along meekly with this...hallucination, it had to be a hallucination brought on by overwork and the stress of losing Frost. It was the only logical explanation.

Ruthvan kept thinking that this was just a hallucination as the furry monsters came again, still grunting at each other before slicing away the sticky rope that bound him to replace it with handcuffs on his wrists. The cuffs felt so real it was hard to continue to believe this was a hallucination, but then, that was what was tricky about hallucinations, wasn't it? How real they could appear, to trick you into thinking they were reality.

It wasn't until he was shoved into a dock, practically a cage, beside a fuming Dr. Shuu and his cringing assistant that he began to really doubt that this might not be a hallucination after all.

Beyond the bars he could see some woman dressed in a crazy Greek toga thing sitting at a high judge's table. Frost was sitting next to her, clutching some weird looking stick and surrounded by the spirits who'd invaded his mansion. 

There were four more...spirits, they had to be spirits, no human could have a spider's body attached to a human torso or jet black wings sprouting from their back...sitting beside Frost's little group, all four glaring at him intensely. For pity's sake, one of them looked like he came out of that new movie the men were all talking about, Offenders or something. 

How could this be real?

He let his gaze drift around the room as the occupants settled down, obviously ready for a show. The room was full of spirits, if he'd had any guess, with he and his men the only humans here...possibly the only humans in the whole building.

Wait, this was...this was a trial? Ruthvan gritted his teeth against rage as the crazy spirit at the head of the room started talking. 

This...this was a mockery, a sham! What right did _spirits_ have to hold a trial for humans? He drew himself up, ready to denounce this whole travesty, when the woman at the front of the room glared at him and told him sternly to hold his tongue and wait his turn – he would have his chance to speak.

How _dare_ she! Fuming, he stood tall even as his men shifted uneasily below him. No damn spirit was going to get the better of him.

Let them have their mockery of a trial. They'd see who the real master was here soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally we get to the trial, right? I keep second guessing myself when it comes to everything that happens here, which makes writing it take twice as long.


	26. Chapter 26

Jack focused on keeping his breathing even and ignoring the occasional glances that every spirit in the room was tossing him. Lady Justice's words washed over him, clinical terms laying out the charges against his former captors in brutal simplicity.

He didn't notice as the glances changed from suspicious to sympathetic (though some clung stubbornly to the suspicious for longer than others, since it was only a list of charges and Jack hadn't sworn to any of them yet) but the rest of his family and friends did.

But they all noticed when Jack stiffened as the 'boss' rose up indignantly, a quick wince that turned quickly to anger, and North laid a placating hand on his shoulder even as the temperature dropped a few crucial degrees around them.

Shivers ran around the courtroom as Jack huffed out a breath that hung in the air for a few seconds, calming at the feel of North's heavy, work calloused hand on his shoulder. A few more suspicious glances turned in his favor as the calming hand turned into an arm around Jack's shoulders, a gentle, fatherly hug, and Jack relaxed into North's side for a few precious, stolen moments.

Baby Tooth, who had snuck her way into Jack's pocket rather than be left behind with her sisters, fluttered up to Jack's hood, rubbing her head against his neck in the closest she could get to a hug, and Jack's hand came up to cup her.

As Lady Justice finished her list of charges the men in the dock began protesting, yelling over each other in their attempts to be heard. The tricksters began catcalling back, tossing back sarcasm and drawled insults.

The other spirits began to join in, arguing with each other or yelling at the men, the din rising to near unbearable levels, louder by the second. Bunny's ears went flat on his head, the noise almost beyond unbearable to his sensitive ears, and he was tempted to copy Jack and bury his head in North's chest to try and drown it all out. He squeezed Jack's leg instead, a silent reminder that he was there, envying Baby Tooth as she retreated into Jack's hoodie.

Lady Justice stood, and the spirits in the room settled shamefacedly under her steely gaze. She turned her eyes to the humans, the men who'd started the racket quailing back in a huddle.

“If you are all quite finished,” she said coldly. “You will restrain yourselves, or you will leave – or be restrained, as the case may be. This is not a human court, and we do not have to abide by their rules – or their methods” she continued, and with the same quick gesture she had used in North's study, summoned her sword to appear in her hand.

The men gasped, watching Lady Justice as though they expected her to descend to the dock and begin using it on them.

Dr. Shuu was staring coldly back at Lady Justice, stony faced. His assistant stuck close to his side, obviously shaken by the proceedings, while Ruthvan had mastered himself enough to look faintly contemptuous of the whole thing.

Ruthvan was, by this point, feeling fairly terrified. He doubted any of this was legal, and was sure this was little more than a kangaroo court, but whether or not he was guilty of what they were claiming – and really, it was _Jack Frost_ , he had to be a minor spirit at best, all this fuss over Jack Frost – it wasn't like he'd done anything _illegal_. Laws didn't apply to myths, after all. Somehow, he doubted that was going to matter much, and the easy summoning of that sword made it quite clear – he might still be able to talk his way out of this, but if he didn't, then they were going to be able to do some fairly nasty things before any human could find out.

A glance across the room to where the Boogeyman still sat, cold and silent, made him reconsider that. Even if he did talk his way out of this, he might not be getting out of this that easily. 

Holding the sword flat across both hands, Lady Justice held it up so all the room could see it. “Many of you have heard of my sword. For those who have forgotten, I remind you – when held by one from whom I wish to hear truth, the sword will glow. Should they lie or speak anything but the strict truth, the sword will cease its glow. If you have given me reason to believe that you will refuse to speak the truth or will twist it until you speak truth but tell lies, then it will grow hotter in your hands until you will have the choice to drop it or lose your hands to its fire.”

She lowered the sword, and the glance she tossed to the men before her – both in the lower and upper docks – said just which setting she would prefer to use on them.

Turning to look at Jack, her eyes softened fractionally. Shifting her grip on the sword, she freed a hand to gesture to the witness stand. “Jack Frost. Will you take the witness stand, or do you prefer to testify from where you sit?”

Jack took a deep breath and made himself stand, gently fishing Baby Tooth out of his hoodie and passing her to her mother before making his way to the witness stand. He's stood on his own for three hundred years, he can do it again – especially when, this time, he had support and friends who actually believed he was telling the truth.

Besides, he wouldn't let anyone claim Lady Justice was coddling him for this trial. 

He set his staff down carefully, leaning it against the corner of the stand and taking a deep breath before raising his head, looking defiantly at the men who'd caused him so much pain.

The doctor and boss met his eyes, almost as if challenging him to speak against them. Gritting his teeth, Jack glared back before looking up at Lady Justice, deciding to wait and see what she had planned.

Contrary to popular belief, he could be respectful...if he felt like it or thought they'd earned it.

Lady Justice offered him the hilt of the sword, and he accepted it just as gingerly as he had the first time.

It lit up, brighter than before, lighting up his face and throwing blue glows into his hair, bright enough that everyone in the room could see it. “To prove to all that it is working without prejudice, please state two truths and a lie for us all.”

Jack stared at her, mind gone blank, as nervous titters swept the courtroom. None of them had expected that, and it broke some of the tension in the room, though it still lay thick over them all. 

“Um...my name is Jack Frost, I'm the Bringer of Winter, and I hate it when the baby teeth use me as a perch.”

The light of the sword flickered out on the last statement, and another round of giggles swept through the assembled spirits. Lady Justice allowed herself a tiny smile and the sword flickered back to life just as brightly as before.

“Now that my sword has demonstrated I do not control it,” she paused to glare at Ruthvan and Shuu, who were obviously ready to protest, before continuing, “Jack Frost, tell us all why you see justice against these men.”

 

Jack had thought it was supposed to get easier to retell his story each time he had to do it. Well, this was the third time, and it certainly wasn't any easier than it had been the second!

Though part of it was probably the audience, he had to admit, during the little break he took to catch his breath. He was leaving out details – no one, save North and, later on, Bunny, were going to get those – and it was hard to decide exactly what to say, to tell them what had happened without telling all. 

He kept his eyes firmly on the sword in his lap, too ashamed of his own weakness to look up and see the disgust he was sure was on the faces of the other spirits. All those years wanting attention, for someone to see him, and now they all saw _this_.

His voice was shaking, so he took another pause for breath, glancing over at the others. If humans could be set on fire with eyes alone, then every human in the room would have already been incinerated by Tooth's glare, with Baby Tooth backing it up with a glare no less fierce than her mother's for all her smaller size.

Bunny was looking at him with eyes so full of love, it drew a shaky smile to Jack's face, while North's proud smile made him sit that much straighter, seeing support stronger than what the humans had put him through.

The others were torn between keeping their eyes on him, full of sympathy and support but none of the dreaded pity, and joining Tooth in glaring at the humans. 

If Lady Justice let the men free after whatever she had planned, he didn't give their sanity much of a chance, with the looks on the trickster's faces.

He didn't dare look at anyone else just yet, not even his former captors. He didn't want to see the other spirits blaming him for this, and if he looked at the humans he'd be too angry to speak.

Adjusting his grip on the sword, he took another deep breath and kept speaking. It was hard to find to words to describe what had happened without going into detail, since he didn't want anyone else to know everything, but he had to make it clear why he needed this, needed Lady Justice to do something, when he couldn't think clear enough to even the scales for something of this magnitude.

He was almost as relieved to come to the rescue as he had been when they'd come for him the first time. Taking one last deep breath, he raised his head and glared out over the assembled spirits, daring them to hate him for what happened despite his own shame.

Most of them were looking at the sword instead of at him, apparently in shock at what he'd said and at the sword's unwavering glow throughout the entirety of his story. A few looked ill, and those who were friendly with him looked murderous.

Pitch was watching the men in the dock with the same gimlet stare a cat uses on a mouse it is particularly interested in, and Jack would have been lying if he'd said he didn't get some enjoyment out of the humans' obvious discomfort.

With a grateful sigh Jack passed the sword back to Lady Justice. There were murmurs as Jack stood and made his way back to the other Guardians. Technically he could and possibly should have stayed in the witness stand, to have a better view of the courtroom and take questions about what he'd said, to try and poke holes in his story, but the humans didn't have a lawyer here – or anyone on their side.

Even so, he had told his story and was more than ready to leave the rest in Lady Justice's hands. The murmurs were growing, and Jack clutched his staff tightly, sliding back under North's arm.

“Why didn't one of you take care of these men already?” someone in the crowd demanded, to a chorus of agreement. “North, you're his father, aren't you? Why aren't they dead by now?”

North squeezed Jack's arm before he could respond. “Am his father _now_ ,” he called back, “and Jack wants justice, not death.”

“Which is why I am here, and why we are holding a trial at all,” Lady Justice said sharply. “Jack and his family have agreed to abide by my decisions in this matter. Will any of you dispute that claim?”

“We will!” Ruthvan burst out, slamming a fist against the bars keeping the trio in the dock. “You've no right to hold us here or to keep up this mockery of a trial!”

“And you had no right to your actions, to kidnap and torture another being,” Lady Justice replied before the room could devolve into chaos again. “I am not just any spirit, but the Spirit of Justice. If any here can say what was and was not just it it I, and I say that what is happening now is justice for your actions.”

She flourished her sword, holding it out to the men in the dock. “If you wish to defend your actions, now is the time. Say the word and I shall give you the sword that you may prove yourselves. In fact,” and her eyes took on a gleam, “I believe you should, in fact, get the chance now to tell _your_ side of this story.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And only three hours late, thank you fundraising day. Better a few hours late than a week late, though, right?
> 
> Yes, boys, just dig that hole nice and deep. You've earned it.
> 
> (Making up Jack's two truths and a lie was far harder than it had any right to be.)


	27. Chapter 27

A few commands to the yeti had them dragging the assistant out of the dock and to the witness stand, shoving the sword into his trembling hands.

Lady Justice stared down at him sternly. “Will you speak now, or do you need motivation?”

The young man quailed against the seat, clutching the sword as if afraid of dropping it. His eyes darted about the courtroom, and whatever he saw obviously frightened him more as he began babbling.

It was more a rush of frightened words than anything coherent, and although quite a few spirits seemed to enjoy his fright – after the fear he'd caused Jack, it only seemed fair – Lady Justice didn't seem to have the patience for it at the moment.

She gestured sharply and he sputtered to a halt, still clutching and nearly dropping the sword as if he was afraid to hold it yet afraid of what would happen if he did drop it. “Enough,” she said, ignoring everyone in the room but the assistant. “After your actions, it is right that you should fear now – but more than your fear, we need your words. Start, then, at the beginning, when they first told you of _Jack Frost_.”

“Don't tell them anything,” rang out over the courtroom, and they turned to stare at Ruthvan, who was glaring at the cowering young man in the witness stand.

“If that is how you feel,” Lady Justice said, giving a small, tight smile, “then you shall trade places with him. Then he need not tell us anything at all.”

“I believe it is my turn, actually, if you are done terrorizing my assistant,” Dr. Shuu said, calmly, and Jack pressed a little against North. He knew technically Ruthvan was the one in charge and therefore the most dangerous, but the doctor had been the source of all his misery, and his resolve for justice almost broke every time he looked at him, with his bored, almost superior expression as he looked around at the courtroom.

The two men had a short, intense argument as the yeti redeposited the assistant into the dock, cutting them off as they dragged the doctor – none to gently – to replace the assistant in the witness stand.

Lady Justice gave them both an unreadable look before saying, quietly and calmly, “You do realize that for any other spirit, the truth of Jack Frost's story is already enough to condemn you.”

“Then why are you asking us anything at all?” Shuu asked, equally calm, as though he didn't care what she answered. For all Jack knew, it was the truth, that or he didn't believe they would harm himself and the other humans. He certainly hadn't worried about Jack's retribution, even though he didn't know that Jack needed his staff, which he'd been missing, to properly conduct his power to take his vengeance and couldn't do much worse at the time than what he'd done at the end.

And maybe it was petty, but seeing the bandages on the doctor's hands and knowing he was responsible felt like it evened things out a tiny, tiny bit.

“Because I, like so many others here, have a simple question for both of you,” Lady Justice answered, cutting over Jack's thoughts. “ _Why?_ ”

“Why Frost, or why in general?” Shuu replied, eying the sword dumped into his lap with distaste. 

“Let's try both,” Lady Justice said, obviously at the end of her patience, which many in the room had, before this, thought was endless.

“Ruthvan wanted profit, I wanted to study a spirit,” Shuu said dispassionately, moving the sword gingerly into a more secure position. 

“That's what you call _studying_?” Puck called, to agreeing mutters. Jack may not have given details, but he'd given enough for more than one spirit to get a clearer picture than he'd intended.

“As if any of you wouldn't have done the same, given the opportunity!” Ruthvan snapped. “Surely you know what he's capable of! We all know that's the only reason you're concerned about what we did.”

The murmuring grew louder, angrier. Jack clutched at his staff, torn between anger and fear, angry that that man would say such things and how true it was that until recently, no one would have cared that he was missing, and fearing that they would reveal his tears. He may have been debating letting the secret out a little more, but after three hundred years, he still wanted to keep it to those he trusted.

“We wanted what he could give us, and we used the best methods on hand. Surely you all can understand that?” Ruvthan continued, the spirits looking at each other in confusion and muttering to each other. Why could Jack possibly give them that was worth this? “We simply stopped trusting to luck and went straight to the source, that's all.”

“I believe I have heard enough,” Lady Justice declared, cutting Ruthvan off before Jack could, and silencing the murmurs. “Will any claim I have not given them a fair chance to defend themselves? ...besides the accused, that is.”

When her words were met with approving shouts, many of which called for her to finally just punish them already, tired of the glacial pace Lady Justice favored.

“Why ask if I want to testify if you'll just ignore me?” Shuu asked angrily as the yeti reached for the sword he still held, pulling it out of his grip when he ignored them.

“Perhaps I wished you to know what it is like to have those with power over you ignore your cries,” Lady Justice said dryly. “Neither of you have believed, from the beginning, that any of this is more than a formality, or that we have the power or will to punish you for what you did – or even that you should be punished.”

“Of course not!” Ruthvan snapped. “Jack Frost is a minor spirit, an irritation at best. It's ridiculous to have this much fuss over something so insignificant.”

There was uncomfortable shifting at that from those who had viewed Jack as inferior before his ascension to Guardian status and indignant glares from Guardian and friend alike.

“Jack Frost has never been insignificant, no matter what others may have thought, and even the most minor of spirits deserve justice,” Lady Justice said quietly. “Their voices deserve to be heard when they call for help, and they deserve to be treated with respect and dignity. You took all of that from Jack Frost for the sake of monetary gain.”

She sighed heavily before looking back at the men before her. “I've heard enough. I am ready to pronounce my judgment.”

 

Ruthvan and Shuu both tried to protest, angrily raising their voices and either not noticing or ignoring the power that began to infuse the room as more spirits began to lose their temper, the temperature dropping as Jack's frost began to creep over the seats he and the Guardians were seated in. 

Bunny nuzzled the side of Jack's head and North gave his shoulder a squeeze, and Jack jerked as he realized what he'd been doing. He muttered an apology even as Lady Justice stood, glaring.

“You will _be silent_ ,” she commanded, and the humans' mouths snapped shut, obviously not by their choice as their shocked faces showed. Ruthvan glowered at her, seething.

How _dare_ this, this...spirit, think she could _pass sentence_ on humans! Without humans, spirits wouldn't even exist. And for all of them to act so pretentious about it – if any of them knew that Frost was the source of the Snow Gems, they'd have done the same, and they knew it. Hypocrites, the lot of them!

Even as he fumed, he tried to plot. Let them pass their sentence, let them try and carry it out. Sooner or later, he would be free, and they would pay for this insult, Frost most of all, and he'd lock the spirit away so far they'd never find him, and reap the benefits of his revenge in tears.

“Your men, while not innocent, were not directly involved in Frost's torture. Therefore, spirits whom I trust shall be set to watch each of you. I shall give each of you a year to balance the scales, good in exchange for the evil you have done. Those who do not shall be appropriately punished.” 

The men in the lower dock, for the most part, seemed relieved, though a few appeared resentful. They'd been doing well at their chosen profession before these spirits interfered, how were they supposed to just stop with no other way to support themselves?

They were ignored as Lady Justice turned her attention to the three men in the upper dock. “For you, I will not be so gentle. I have asked the assistance of Lord Mansnoozie, Lord Pitch, and Robin Goodfellow to assist in this, and they have consented.” 

Jack started at that, craning his head to see where Puck sat, surrounded by the other tricksters and looking insufferably smug. They caught Jack's eye and winked. A bit worried but willing to trust Puck – to a point – and more willing Lady Justice's judgment, Jack sat back, fiddling with his staff as he waited to see how this would play out.

“Everything that has happened has been a direct result of your choices and greed. You have never shown regret or guilt for anything you have done or the pain you have caused. Therefore, there are no mitigating circumstances to soften the punishment you have earned by your actions.”

Lady Justice gestured, and at the base of her stand a portal opened, solid white bordering restless swirls of gold and black. 

“This portal leads to three sections of the Unformed in Underhill that have been specially prepared for each of you. It is doubtful if you should be able to die in there – and for two of you, at least, even more unlikely that you shall ever be released. To be released, you must come to truly, deeply, and completely regret what you have done to Jack Frost, take responsibility for your choices and actions, feel guilt for them, and wish to make amends.”

The yeti seized the threesome, dragging them out of the dock and toward the portal, struggling and protesting all the way.

Ruthvan's voice rose the highest, over the assistant's frightened pleas and Shuu's indignant protests. “You can't do this! He's _just a spirit!_ A minor one at best! We captured him, he was ours to do with as we pleased!”

Jack pressed back against North and Bunny, into their circling arms, as the trio were pulled across the floor. He buried his face in North's shoulder for a moment before forcing himself to watch as the three were thrown unceremoniously through the portal.

 

Ruthvan landed heavily on a tiled floor, grunting at the impact. Confused, his eyes shot about. The room was tiled heavily in white, a dentist's chair bolted in the center, metal cabinets lining the walls.

...the fools sent him back to his own basement! Ruthvan began to heave his way to his feet, plans beginning to form, when he heard movement from behind him.

He spun and looked up, into eyes cold and dead, and he bit back a scream as it grabbed his arm.

“I would rather he not be too badly damaged, if possible,” he heard his own voice command, bored and disbelieving. “Unless you have to, of course. Do whatever you think necessary.”

“Of course, sir,” the figure purred, looking down at Ruthvan, “leave it to me.”

 

The portal closed and nearly all the occupants of the room heaved a sigh of relief in the sudden, ringing silence. Lady Justice inclined her head to Jack solemnly.

“So I have seen justice served,” she said quietly. “I wish you swift healing, Jack Frost. May you not have need to call upon my services again for a very, very long time.”

Jack returned her respectful nod, silently thanking her. She gave a slight smile, sending a tiny nod to Bunny and a larger one to North before stepping down from her desk. One of the yeti met her, leading her away for refreshment before she left the Pole.

 

The courtroom was quiet as the yeti led the last of the humans out, a soft murmur rising as the spirits began talking about what had just happened, debating and discussing and dissecting it. 

Jack sat in the stands, a little stunned. All that, and it was over in an instant. His secret was still safe (and oh, how sure he'd been that the humans would have revealed him, out of spite or because they could), they'd never hurt anyone again, spirit or human, and he...wasn't sure where he stood.

The chatter of the spirits washed over him as he sat there, confused and silent, until he felt the others standing around him. Blinking at the paw suddenly offered, he followed the arm up to meet Bunny's eyes, smiling a little as he accepted the hand and stood, surrounded by his new family.

 

The group made their way out of the courtroom, Jack sandwiched between North and Bunny, leaning on his staff to spare his foot while trying not to be too obvious about it. It seemed to Jack as though the exit were miles away as they were mobbed by the spirits that had come to view the trial. Condolences, commiserations, apologies, regrets, and offers all fell about his ears, mixing together into a cacophonous whole. 

It was just too much right now, though Jack did his best to smile, weak as it was, in response. Bunny watched as Jack's face grew more and more strained before he released Jack's hand, ignoring the little flinch he got when he did, to clear a path for the Guardians out of the courtroom.

“Will answer questions and deliver messages later,” North's voice boomed over protests at their retreat. “Need space for now. Was long day for all of us, yes?” he added with remarkable tact, for North. 

There were more muttered regrets at that, but no more protests. Those who'd still tried to block the path moved out of the way, forming little groups instead as they discussed what they'd seen.

 

Jack, with his family by his side, left the courtroom and never looked back.

 

A week later, Jack was making longer excursions out of his room. Physically, he was healed – all but his foot, which thanks to his near depleted magic and sheer exhaustion was taking longer, but looked to be fully healed in the next few days. Mentally, he found himself trapped – he wanted the sky, _needed_ the sky, and at the same time, was afraid to fly.

It was frustrating as all hell, and hard to articulate, enough that he still wasn't sure he'd managed. Still, most of the others had apparently understood anyway when he'd tried.

He cursed it, every time he found himself at the window, ready to leap into the air and sail away and that tiny bit too afraid to make the jump. 

The others kept telling him not to force himself or rush it, but it was hard not to despite that – and harder not to be angry with himself for being so afraid.

Bunny spent as much time as he dared with Jack, joining Katherine and Nightlight as the four of them spent time in long, rambling discussions, often joining in halfway through as he kept having to return to the Warren. Easter may have been a way off yet, but the egg plants needed tending, the color river needed checked to be sure it didn't dam or the colors become muddy, and the color plants needed weeded and watched. 

The best conversations were still the two times all seven Guardians squeezed into Jack's room with marshmallows and cocoa, talking well into the night about everything and anything, sprawled over each other and Jack growing more comfortable with their touches with every absent pat or stroke, cuddle and quick hug.

There were times Jack was glad of all the attention – North tried to give him as much as Katherine and Nightlight were, still beaming in his newfound father role, but production was picking up for Christmas, and he was called away more and more often than he'd like – and sometimes Jack had to send Katherine and Nightlight off to help North for his own peace of mind. 

He appreciated the attention, and in a way understood why they would want to keep an eye on him, it just got a bit...much after so many years with so little, and thankfully they could understand that...well, they did after the first time he nearly threw a fit after being smothered with attention. For spirits who valued their solitude so much, they didn't understand the need for it in others very well.

Still, he could be grateful for the help when it came to the sudden influx of messages. Ever since the trial they'd poured in, letters and gifts and little spirits bearing messages for Jack from their masters.

Jack wasn't quite sure what to make of it all. Three hundred years they'd ignored him, and now they all wanted his attention.

“Why are they all sending these?” Jack demanded, waving another missive, this one nothing more than a bid for attention poorly veiled in sympathy. “I mean, I thought...well...”

“Thought they'd treat you like mortals treat victims?” Bunny finished for him absently, tossing another letter into the bucket North had provided. “Politics, mostly. Probably think you're so torn up you'll take any offer of help or protection without noticing what they're askin' in exchange. North'd like ta see 'em, make a list o' the names an' what they offered, so he knows who goes on th' _special_ naughty list, if ya catch mah drift. Only reason I ain't sayin' ta burn 'em.”

Jack glared at the pile, suddenly obscurely offended. “So why do we have to go through them all anyway? Can't we just pass them off to someone to just take the names?”

Bunny shrugged. “'Cuz once in awhile, there's a genuine offer in there, just too shy or think they're too weak ta matter, so they send a letter instead o' doin' it in person.”

Jack snorted, and the Bunny grinned, pleased to see his humor nearly restored. “Well, let's have a party if you find one,” he groused.

“Can invite new friends,” North boomed from the doorway. He lowered himself to the floor by Jack, exchanging smiles with Jack when he leaned up against North's larger body. “Come, let me see.”

 

Two months later and there was one very small, party, as to Jack's surprise there had, in fact, been five honest letters in that pile. North hadn't been sure the Pole could handle the tricksters, (who suddenly included Coyote and Rabbit, both of whose reactions to Bunny were interesting, to say the least, and who'd been too busy with their own responsibilities to realize what had happened in time to help before), Jack, Cupid, and the two snow maidens and three kitsune who had written.

Thankfully for the Pole – and North's sanity – the trickster pack had kept it fairly low key to keep from scaring the snow maiden twins, who were shyly looking at Jack much like a big brother, and it was fairly obvious that, given time, he'd be just as much their big brother as North was Jack's father.

North was rather looking forward to it, really. The girls weren't Guardian material, too weak in power and too shy to fight, but they were sweet.

Plus, he had a feeling watching out for the girls would be a good thing for Jack. 

 

Three months later, and Jack was going for short flights outside, still wary and keeping away from humans, keeping to the night sky and hanging out with Sandy or Tooth's fairies for nearly all of his flight time.

 

Six months saw Jack officially moved into the Pole, with a door in his room enchanted to take him directly to his den under his pond in Burgess, and an official announcement of his adoption of North as his father. 

There was a freak major blizzard a few days later, thankfully in-season enough that most people were able to weather it out, as the stress of all the interactions finally was triggered by something, Jack could never say just what. All he was sure of was that one minute he was flying in the night sky, the next terrified out of his mind – and then he was waking up at the Pole.

He was out and about again within a week, refusing to let the backslide stop him, determined to be able to be alone and flying again.

 

A year later and Jack circled Bunny in his Warren, slow and cautious, watching Bunny with every wary, hopeful step, and Bunny could have wept for joy.

Even more important to Bunny than the beginning of a new courtship – Jack had flown to meet him in the Warren, and flew out again, in broad daylight. 

It was just a beginning, but every day, week by week, month by month, with his family and boyfriend by his side, Jack was healing.

The scar would never be gone completely, but in the end, Jack was never going to be a victim. Time heals all wounds, and the Guardians had eternity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those who are wondering just what happened to Ruthvan, Shuu, and the assistant – they're underhill right now. What's happening to them isn't 100% real, but it brought on by Lady Justice's interpretation of what Jack told her happened. They think it's real, but physically, nothing's happening – hence needing Sandy and Pitch to help. Underhill gives a safe place to 'store' them, as it were, while it happens.
> 
> Ruthvan didn't say it was Jack's tears since he was plotting a way out of the whole thing. In his eyes, the more who knew about the tears, the more likely it was one of them would get to Jack first and do the same to him, before Ruthvan would get free. So, basically, for greed.
> 
> I never expected this fic to end up as long as it has. I apologize for the times I couldn't update on time, and thank everyone who left comments and kudos. I can't express how much they - and knowing others have enjoyed what I wrote - mean to me.
> 
> I'm debating what to write next, so if you have suggestions or just want to discuss something, you can find me at phenyxsnest.tumblr.com. :)

**Author's Note:**

> So we have the first chapter of the fic I promised back at the end Frostbound. I hope it's worth the wait for anyone who reads this!
> 
> I'll be adding warnings to the beginning notes of each chapter that they apply to as they are needed.
> 
> Woodworking is a skill that would be fairly common – and useful – in a settler colony, so I figured Jack would have it to make his box. Also, I’m counting Sophie as one of the Burgess Believers, so Burgess Seven. I think I have the count right, hope I do…also, I still giggle at how mary-sue-ish I managed to make his tears. I regret nothing.
> 
> Also, be warned, I have been told I am an evil, mean author. And I enjoy it.


End file.
